A.M. Frequency Townly Showtunes

Still don't like the thoughts playing in the background.
An old radio in my head.
If you took Opry singers seriously on that telecolor screen in a quarter of your mind scape,
the degenerative properties of a suicidal brain
engaged only by your own other thoughts,
you would die slowly like a turtle that keeps on going
across a busy highway

with a death wish
to be shipped away above the clouds
of heaven.
What's your love to me?

Your love is a burning flame out on the ocean,
a spectacle to see it die by the breath of the waters.

Your love is nothing to me.

Your love can't save me.

"Oh the rain is slowly fallin'"

It's weighing down my jeans.

"And my heart is so sore"

Midnight palpitations without
anxiety meds.

"Six more miles and leave my darlin'"

Emerald eyes. She's true love.

"Never on this earth to meet no more."
...
...

And I run away from her icy lonely face.

To be alone with my radio,
spending my life trying to change the station
and not die.

Just give me the silence of a dusty starlight night
to be alone with my destructive thoughts.

Give me a million bucks,
so I won't need no one,
and I can listen to the A.M.
until the signal fades out.