Who Whips the Cream?
Who whips the cream for your morning coffee?
Who shares your dreams? Who is combing your hair?
What makes you smile? Who is keeping you laughing?
Who shares your dreams, now that I’m not there?
Oh, there were times, before all the shouting,
You’d swell my heart, till I thought it would burst.
Yeah, there were times, on the side of the mountain
When you were the stream, and I was thirst.
The moment we met, one look and I knew
We’d be sharing each other before the night was through;
You were looking for love, I was offering shelter,
And that was enough: we paid passion her due.
And now I’m alone, with this guttering candle
Which is etching in smoke the ghost of your smile:
I’m left wondering how, at the turn of a handle,
The warmth of your kisses turned colder than guile.
Copyright © M.J.C. Griffin [ASCAP]