It wasn’t my intent to wake you
With stumbling around in the night
But now that you’re up
Can I brew you a cup
And sit with you here in the dawn‘s gentle light?
It wasn’t my intention to burn
The potatoes and parts of the toast
But talking with you over morning news
I may have been somewhatly over-bemused
and held by your company over-engrossed.
It wasn‘t my meaning to intervene
and fiddle and fret with your plans
The worry I express
is considerably less
than the fussing I spent on the burnt frying pan.
It wasn‘t my meaning to overindulge
on the cookies you left on the rack
T‘was not just the tasteÂ
that made them erased
but thinking of you took me wistfully back.
To when I intended to wed you
and time with you ran at a prime
the things that you baked
became feelings that waked
the thought of you all of the time.
It wasn‘t my aim to unload
these troubles at the end of the day
I was really just groping
for a way of eloping
just us two, together forever away
I certainly didn‘t want to bore you
with singing and playing this guitar
I took your quiet to mean you want more
imagine my shock when you started to snore
But you‘ve got to rest for tomorrow‘s morning star
Which I certainly did NOT mean to wake you for.
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