Last man on the bridge
Last night I saw a Movie played on TV
with Meryl Streep and Clint Eastwood
in a romantic love affair.*
A man meets a woman on a bridge
in the middle of somewhere.
A dream comes true out of nowhere
in the wind awakening in the sky
by the flight of a butterfly.
He falls in love with her
charmed by the spirit of her flair.
But in the storm arising in the sky
from the flap of a butterfly,
the story ends in misery.
She is the wife of another guy.
She was the last woman on the bridge,
where life turns the switch
and the mind grows old.
She was his last woman on the bridge,
before all in life is lived
and the heart falls cold.
Leaving what you love is a journey
on an endless train of pains,
and the heart bleeds out in a thousand leaks.
The movie ends with a final cut on the bridge,
where he says goodbye
and leaves her love behind in tears
no one in her life can dry.
The camera swings up to the hills
where a cold wind in the trees
wakes a black bird out of dreams.
It spreads its wings
and sails high into the dark sky.
He was her last man on the bridge,
where life turns the switch
and the mind grows old.
He was her last man on the bridge,
before all in life is lived
and the heart falls cold.
Long ago I was in love with a woman
who came into my life like an angel,
who was falling out of the sky.
I sailed with her in the summer clouds
like a crazy butterfly.
But she played a dirty game
and left me for an unnamed man.
My heart broke in a thousand pieces
in the bitterness of her last kisses.
I felt the pain of a butterfly
slowly bleeding to death
on the thorns of a rose hedge.
She was my last woman on the bridge,
where life turns the switch
and the mind grows old.
She was my last woman on the bridge,
before all in life is lived
and the heart falls cold.
I’m not Clint Eastwood,
and she’s not Meryl Streep,
but she was made for me.
She left me in shame
to live with another man
a thousand miles away from me.
Once I saw a picture of her on Facebook,
she still looks good,
but at the end of her glory days,
when shadows deepen in her face
and darken her mind,
she will sorrow for missing the time.
I was her last man on the bridge,
where life turns the switch
and the mind grows old.
I was her last man on the bridge,
before all in life is lived
and the heart falls cold.
*The Bridges of Madison County, USA 1995
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