Please Stop Following me

How many years ago did I tell you the story
of a woman who fell, and then
couldn’t get over me?
Accident prone, or merely crazy?
she wouldn’t stop calling, she lay in my doorway,
and I asked her politely

Please, stop following me.

They say it’s a small world, and I have found it true:
I found a new job,
and she found it, too.
I found a new home, I tried to start anew
but opened my closet, and found her standing in my shoes;
I asked politely

Please, stop following me.  Please, stop following me.

How many years ago, yes, how many years ago?
Stubborn as winter,
she will not let go,
I try not to look, but she’s sitting in the front row,
She’s singing along, she tells me she told me so
and I asked politely

Please, stop following me.  Please, stop following me.

Do do do, do do do dee do dee doo doo doo

Stranger than fiction, this story uncovers
the dangers inherent
in taking a lover
who tells you her ex’s have all gone crazy.
In retrospect, you think maybe
they weren’t the problem.

Please, stop following me.  Please, stop following me.
Do do do, do do do dee do dee doo doo doo

©  Evalyn Parry SOCAN 2007