It's the past that's supposed to be gray

Smooth Colored Comfort

Let’s smooth the dial and rest in pillowed luxury;
Of cushioned comfort within the Turkish tent
“And will there be anything else,?” is heard again
And again, but there really isn’t anything else.

You have it all. And around the corner?
Were you sent? In any case, you went.
Or did it go? Let's just say the corner was rounded?
If so, we'd just like to know if it's any different over there.

Here you have the luxury of reminiscence, which you indulge
In at inopportune times, and it’s like looking at old photos
From which you were told the color would fade in time,
And you're surprised because either it hasn’t, or

You have colorized those shapshots and the funny
Thing is that this has actually improved the original
To the extent that you return more than when you were
Actually there, well that’s not actually possible,

Of course, but you’re not really interested in the possible
If you were, then you would possibly be more accepting
Of this black-and-white world, which is very strange
Because it's the past that’s supposed to be gray.


---- Big Frank Dickinson