Counting the Days © 1998 by Jeffrey Rodman

The sun is coming up again I'm waking up without my friend you're off in some exotic land... Romantic nights without your hand with no full moons and no warm sands just me in dollars, you in rands There are no strings in the string quartet they're just serving crackers at the fancy banquet I've got a wish, but there's no first star yet I'm here in the castle, feeding the fish, and wat'ring your plants Maybe at rhyming I'm facile, But without you, there's no point to romance! A New England autumn without the trees a tropical isle without a tropical breeze I'm a lonely old orange here without your squeeze I'm on a swing without a push, eating a popsicle that's melted to mush and I'm falling into a thorny bush A three-masted schooner becalmed without sails, a steam locomotive run off its rails I'm caught without postage in the U.S. Mails Another day passes, fixing a shoe, or polishing a book What I see through these glasses is not even worth a second look! The factory's quiet without its boss the dog's laying here just licking his paws it's a lonely time when you're off looking at flowers (flaws) Counting the days, counting the days, counting the days, each time I count off the days they just come out the same, but still I'm - counting the days!