Today my heart is crying For something once received Simply abandoned And every second Which passes at the tick Of two The distance between us Thickens Swallowing our voices Grinding our memories To powdered dreams
People are a little weird. That’s the mantra of this town. Specters and night crawlers With thigh high make up In star bowler company Smoke infinitely long rings of mood dust. Then there was me And you Collapsing across peeling laminate counter tops And day old sandwiches With the the bread always toasted. How one falls In this topsy turvy place, From barstools to backseats. Or bedsheets. Up? I suppose it only makes sense. This has never been the city of dreams But we liked to pretend. And why not? There always has been, There always will be, More ways to fall in love.