Drew's Wonderful Magnificent Emporimorium
Lies. All lies.

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Unglue Sad and brooding blue Angers itself over nothing -- darkness, then Stars -- the pimples of the night No matter how old you get, they never go away The moon beams are silver daggers, punishing Those who rendezvous. Then comes dawn, like a yawn, Opening wide the lawns, streets Closing tight the night's delights Fading, fading, flickering street lights Winking blinking slinking lights Jazz muted by talk shows Just before my eyes unglue Still there's the dream of me and you Then, hooray, it's day With my dream ending the same old way: I realize I'm not flying, I'm falling.