I watch angels
with dirty laughs,
wings clipped by sin
flirt around the bar
in cheap country
mini-skirts
and Empusa t-shirts,
like paper on the wind,
and the longer I watch
the more I'm convinced
they only dance
to show the white haired drunks
their fate
is incomplete...
But the brunette and me
stay seated
spilling gin and laughing
as I nurse her
from a sadness sickness
consuming her,
coaxing the light
back into her eyes
till we leave the pub
joined at the lip
and with drunk tongues
we vow
that when tomorrow
parts us
the three months
when the future was lost
and we danced
to our own fateful tune
will be ours.
with dirty laughs,
wings clipped by sin
flirt around the bar
in cheap country
mini-skirts
and Empusa t-shirts,
like paper on the wind,
and the longer I watch
the more I'm convinced
they only dance
to show the white haired drunks
their fate
is incomplete...
But the brunette and me
stay seated
spilling gin and laughing
as I nurse her
from a sadness sickness
consuming her,
coaxing the light
back into her eyes
till we leave the pub
joined at the lip
and with drunk tongues
we vow
that when tomorrow
parts us
the three months
when the future was lost
and we danced
to our own fateful tune
will be ours.
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