Jonny, who was it that said A white wall may seem empty But it's ready to be filled And, in it's readiness, needs nothing It stands complete Was it you? I don't remember But it makes me wonder Jonny, why couldn't you be ready, too? I was ready Ready to be happy Ready for that long look that never ends And, now, I don't know what to do Yes, Jonny, I'll say it This is a love song, isn't it? Yes, well, I guess this is how it ends A strange poem about a plain and ready white wall One with many questions And a dog as speechless as that same wall And the sorrows of love's slow passing Goodbye, Jonny