Cavendish Pipe

I'm just all alone but it's not quite a fright,
I sit on this porch and smoke my cavendish pipe.
The snow falls, it's cold;
I feel the things that I felt,
I fear getting old.
I'm just on the porch smoking my cavendish pipe,
the smoke is thick and it's late, well into the night.
I'm here, you're never around;
it's just me and no one is here,
they aren't when they are.
The tobacco in my pipe is burning up,
I guess I'll call it a night,
I didn't feel how I wanted tonight.
But there's always next time,
Even though this was like last.
I'll just rest my pipe and call it a night,
tuck my shoes under the bed and turn out the light.

(edited 9/14/15)