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 with grew Hair
meets a woman on a bridge
in the middle of somewhere.
Sometimes dreams come true
nothing having to do
only be in the right place.
He looks in her face
and sees the glow in the gaze.
She is too perfect to be,
not younger not older than he
But another man belongs to her.
Some things are to hard to share.
He was her last man on the bridge,
where life shifts from young to old.
and the hearts grow cold.
When he looked in her eyes
he saw the signs.
He have never told.
But he was her last man on the bridge
before their life turned the switch.
Leaving what you love
is the one the hardest part.
It s a journey in a endless train full of pain.
The heart bleeds out in leaks
and the soul goes blind.
The film ends in the last cut,
when fate breaks the line
and they meet for the last time.
The camera slowly swings
from the man to the bridge,
where the woman stays behind.
A dove in tree spread its wings.
A stormy wind blows in the air.
The river flows
and everybody knows.
He was her last man on the bridge,
where life shifts from young to old.
and the hearts grow cold.
When he looked in her eyes
he saw the signs.
He have never told.
But he was her last man on the bridge
before their life turned the switch.
Years ago I met a woman
with the smile and spirit of a vamp
She was the one of a thousand
to give my life ’s frame.
We sailed in the summer clouds like butterflies
In Winter cold came with quarrels and lies.
When pressed the button to leave,
there is no chance to appease.
In her eyes I saw the missiles soar.
They darkened my sky.
My beg fell on deaf ears
and I learned in tears.
Growing Roses in peace,
bring death in war.
She said goodbye für another guy.
Sometimes life is a lousy cook,
and his dishes make the soul sad.
I was her last man on the bridge,
where life shifts from young to old.
and the hearts grow cold.
When I looked in her eyes
I saw the signs.
I have never told.
But he was her last man on the bridge
before our life turned the switch.
I am not Clint Eastwood,
and she is not Meryl Streep,
but she was made for me.
Last time I saw her on Facebook
she always looked good,
but there was a shadow in her face,
which darkened the glow in her gaze.
She lives with her old frankenstein.
a million miles from me
in a land without name.
But she will remember me,
when the mirror catches her smile
and the night breeze,
which blows in the tree
whispers in her sleep
what everybody knows.
I was her last man on the bridge,
where life shifts from young to old.
and the hearts grow cold.
When I looked in her eyes,
I saw the signs.
I have never told.
But I was her last man on the bridge
before our life turned the switch.
*The Bridges of Madison County) USA 1995