Irony

It was you and me and a little thing named Irony....

all bundled up in hats and scarves the shade of sea. 

Just you and me and Irony along for a ride. 

Lets lift up our heads and cover our eyes—the sun pierces, the air slides. 

You better learn the things you’ve been told.

I shouldn’t forget to be nothing but bold.

Irony watched our disaster unfold—the swift current of demise.

 

This sounds all too dramatic, lets talk more of sky.

It was a reflection of water, the Hudson beneath the statute green.  

Why, those we’re sights I’d yet to see; 

you, me and Irony hand in hand towards the Bowery.

You’re taller than I’d like you to be.

You seem rather short, is this how it should be?

They both have a hang up, that’s easy to see.

 

You, me and Irony--what a funny song we weave. 

Us three, two we’s, one chance to be.

Each woe can now be shared with a smile.

No use rewinding the pain, it’s not worth the while.

Bowery. Hudson. Your keen sense of style.

The sky and it’s blue.

Irony, me and you.