October 23rd, 2008

Crazy

:: I Sit and Wait ::



:: I Sit and Wait ::
 
Was it last year when you sat across the table 
And spoke about your dreams and aspirations
While I laid an ice cube onto the coffee table 
And watch it melt, watch it melt, into a puddle
of tepid reflection, of the approaching crossroad. 
 
And as you left a dollar as tip for the waitress
We hugged and parted our ways forever 
I lingered, and watch the willowy figure of yours 
Disappear into the horizon, like the setting sun
Except that I will not see you again, tomorrows. 
 
So, here, I am, once again, 
Back again, like a long lost friend. 
I've made my choice 
I've found my voice 
If the opposite of destiny is free will 
I'll take my chances, I will, I will.  
I'll say I'm sorry. 
I'll take my chances 
and say I'm sorry. 
 
The waitress smiles and brings me my tea 
My earl grey, my distant past, my memories
So I sit and wait, I know you'll come 
You'll come you'll come you''ll come
I sit and wait. I sit and wait. 
 
I'll take my chances 
and say I'm sorry. 
 
 
Crazy

:: Prawn in the Hokkien Mee ::

 

:: Prawn in the Hokkien Mee ::

 

In the food stall down the street

There's this lad selling hokkien mee

The stalls have nothing nice to eat

But then, this lad's good enough for me

 

And so I'll head there everyday

To see my dream boy do his chore

No matter how far, I'll make my way

For it'll never be a bore

 

Hokkien mee, hokkien mee

You're the prawn in my hokkien mee

Hokkien mee, hokkien mee 

I only want the prawn, you see

 

I ordered my mee and said hello

You gave me a smile and we talk some more

Let's hang out? You said okay lor 

Now we're frying mee at the stall 

 

Crazy

:: And So It is Christmas ::

 
:: And So It is Christmas ::



After eighteen sets, steam room and a shower, 
We exited True Fitness, only to see an almost completed
Semblance of a Christmas Tree.
A soon-to-be beacon for romantic hangouts
And shutterbugs and camwhores alike. 
I could hear the murmur of silent night
and jingle bells, and then, in the distance, 
Robert Burn's Auld Lang Syne.

And we all grow
Yet another year older. 

TIme.