Sweet Lemonade

Angie moved west in the hopes that she,
Could settle into motherhood and the letters in her degree.
But she could never be satisfied,
When you don’t know what you’re lookin’ for, you don’t know what to find.
She could never be wrong, or the house of cards around her would crumble down.
She always had to be right, and those around just roll their eyes in lieu of the unwinnable fight.

Jimmy turned twenty-five, changed his name to Jim.
It made a huge difference to no one else but him.
Materialistic as he could be:
Defined himself by the car he drove and the size of his TV.
Nobody else could be right: no matter what was said he would always do you one better.
But at the end of the day: a lonely, cold apartment and a microwaved dinner served in a tray.

Everybody’s trying to get by,
Sipping on the bitter wine from the grapes left on the vine.
In a race against the sands of time,
Trying to make sweet lemonade from the hopes,
And the dreams they left behind.

Carol came east to be with her love.
She should have known better when push became shove.
Her family and friends told her she was blind.
But she truly believed things would get better with time.
She could never be right. No matter the apology, the barbs and the fists would fly.
And when she finally realized, the booze and pills she turned to had finally taken hold of her life.

Everybody’s trying to get by,
Sipping on the bitter wine from the grapes left on the vine.
In a race against the sands of time,
Trying to make sweet lemonade from the hopes,
And the dreams they left behind.

Robin left the world on a summer’s day
We can never be certain of what led him that way.
A tortured soul is a tragic thing.
It can’t be fixed by money, love, or living the dream.
There is no right and no wrong. A life of insecurity can feel a life too long.
Laughter to deaden the pain, he chose to seize the moment: be the one to take his own breath away.

Everybody’s trying to get by,
Sipping on the bitter wine from the grapes left on the vine.
In a race against the sands of time,
Trying to make sweet lemonade from the hopes, and the dreams…
We’re all trying to get by,
Sipping of the bitter wine from the grapes left on the vine.
In a race against the sands of time,
Trying to make sweet lemonade from the wants and the needs,
And the hopes and the life and the dreams that passed us by.

© Dave Semple – 14 August 2014