A Young Man's Lament

Sitting outside in the sun at Perry’s Pizza, drinking beer with the guys in 1975, watching the bicycles go by.
By Steve Burgess

Passing by, they’re passing by.
There’s certain joy in observation,
But always comes the inclination
To call out, “Hi!”
To touch her thigh,
They’re passing by.

Yearning grows, it overflows,
It makes a man feel near psychotic
To get inside and get meiotic.
You feel a push,
To touch her tush,
They’re passing by.

Love comes and goes,
You never know
When you’ll find her in your mind

But all the time,
You feel the prime
Expediency’s
To slip, then see if she’ll stand by.

Lose your smile when she stays a while.
Usually turns out wrong in the end.
You never wanted to be her friend,
Just want to touch
What you want so much.
They’re passing by.