by Peter Moring & Lou Marshall Gould
At the dusk of day
At the dusk of the day
A bit of a turmoil some would say
The dinner planned to be grand was now forgotten
Instead only two bags of salty crisps were taken
washed down with good tall glasses of red wine
as the long Thames wound beside us and the London fog that seemed to have a corner in this fine tale
It was late December but still you could see the lights on the river faintly shimmering and remember
Or was it a glittering warehouse so far and kind calling us once more to shift in place and time with this not so distant shore
At the time of dusk when there's a scent of white musk in the air
I see you so gently
I see you so clear
Still I couldn't see where the river banks were set along the moonlight tide nor the 210 miles of water that stretched beside
A New and Happy Year was at the door
Passing by our million steps indeed much more
Up and down we walked in the streets that lay before us
In and out turned the underground lines so complete in their core planning
Up and down stepping onto buses it felt quite cold under our feet
A journey and time so sweet that never will pass in my mind or feel too old
it was just so cozy, so complete, this tale is being rightly told Tempted
by the spicy avocados with caviar and the red wine poured at dusk sweet and stained on our lips in a lovers timeless lasting kiss we climb to reach each other along this not so distant shore
At the time of dusk when there's a scent of white musk
in the air
I see you so gently
I see you so fair,
Suddenly tomorrow is today
fini