Nightlife
Yeah I know, I could look good in black,but really I'm too cool to grieve –when tears burn like acid youmake sure your eyes stay dry. The echo of empty rooms push outinto the neon night, where I wanderto find a sound that talks of light,perhaps a drink that tastes of home. Eventually, the music has to end, people's voices become a drone, a hum resonatingin a fuddled mind. The melancholy of a pint too far, sets my feet moving for the door.