Into the Night

 
I sat on a rooftop
Strumming strings at the sky
Looking through Eric Draven’s eyes
Into the Night
A city of shadows below me
spread
like the thighs of a defeated whore
Don’t think I can take anymore
but I will
I’ve been dead before
Walking with ill intent
to settle the score
into the night

I walked quietly
with roadhouse concerts
in my head
through the streets of Paris
and the beaches of LA
Through fevered acid dreams
and right on down the hall
in the Lizard King’s boots
and the worn through shoes
of le enfant terrible
a shared season in Hell
Equal plans of madness
followed my trail
into the night

I watched Bruce’s eyes narrow
into thin crescent moons
in his demonic head
A sharp silhouette on the gargoyle
next to me
And yet
every time I think
I’ll take the dive
it’s Clark’s strong hand
on my shoulder
telling me silently
I can survive
this drive
into the night

I can take any bullet
that comes my way
they say
I can shrug off
all injustice
with a smile and a shrug
That’s why they come to me
for the word and the warm hug
But they don’t follow me home
They never follow me home
where I sit alone
on a bench, staring out
into the night

I can just remember
soft promises
soft lies
and I spend every night
quietly
trying to die
I once held on
to quiet sighs
as I came inside
warm flesh
and arms proud to hold me
If only I could shed this skin
and truly take flight
again
into the night

Maybe I’ll fall asleep
into Summertime Sadness
where Lana pouts
and gives me those eyes
as her voice sings and sighs
Maybe I’ll run
into the hills of dawn
and remember what it’s like
to be warm
and kept close
So close
I can taste
every drop
of angelic pussy dew
on my waiting tongue
begging for the one
someone
to validate these dreams
and let them ride
into the night

A season in Hell...
they seem to last
months on end
these days
granting warm respite
with words to grateful ears
and minds
that will find others with which
to fly
I don’t mind
being the hero
just sometimes
it would be nice to be saved
sanctified
and then for once
I wouldn’t have to strum these strings
and tell my tales alone
while I quietly bide my time
dreaming of what might be mine
into the night