212 or Community Theatre

“How do you spell your name, my love?”
If they were playing games, I wanted a part
If he could be another lover,
live another life
I could be him
Grow out my hair
my beard
loosen my belt
Now I’m your lover
I hope my drink fades from my breath
“Hello, I make love against the dark of
thunderstorms.“
That’s not right.
“Hello, your lover put on new cologne. I know his scent, the way he holds you.”
That’s not funny, she said.
If I can be this, I can be that.
I’m a million different dreams
and you can pick one.
“I’m the gentleman tucking you in,
slipping you out of your black dress.“
That’s not right, she said.
“I’m the man that knows your dreams, that doesn’t drink, that says he loves you.”
Well, it’s all so sentimental, she said.