It will be quite a whirl,
You might even think he cares for you,
But falsehood is all he ever knew.
He falls for jai baba's and all that's pretense,
But fails to see life for what it is, intense,
And the blind girl with hardship finds herself again,
Wondering why she ever let him take her for that spin.
He's a beatnik from the fifties, a hippie from the sixties,
He floats from one to another without even a care,
All lost, but really not that deep, in his theories,
But he is nothing rare.
She casts pearls before swine,
Not knowing she is truly and without reservation divine,
And she knows better than to doubt herself,
As her life depends on no one else.
He can't see reality, but she is not amazed,
She has seen so many people lost in a haze,
While she deals with the reality that she knows,
In what some might call impoverished and low.
But, underneath she is really a queen,
She is even 'tangerine,'
For she is gentle and kind,
And all the lies in life she's left behind.
For a week she can be his girl,
He can take her for quite a whirl,
And in the end it's all the same,
Just one more empty game.
