A Few Minutes On A Friday

She kills, with foreign films, the emptiness of day to day And I wait until the weekend comes So I can clear this uselessness from my brain I count the days until she arrives Those precious minutes when she is mine As we walk from my front door to her car We are so close and alone But that will disappear in a room filled with the warmth Of others company There is too much company I hide my wounded pride and stare off into the other cars If I could just speak the words to tell her Exactly how I feel I count the ways that I might say it But I know that none of them will work because She won't feel the same I've come this far But I can't go through with it because the truth would hurt Too much This hurts too much She goes back to the west coast to drink in the sunshine And I will stay here in these dead plains And try to make a seed grow And I would pray for rain If I thought that that would help