fun guy (Amour fou 5)

I can handle my booze  
better than any man should  
but the prussian blue  
that the moon wears tonight  
has my slant curved  
 
this is the type of weather  
in which love
confesses itself to strangers  
 
and  
 
I can tell by the saucers  
between your eyelids  
that you too  
have become a satellite  
 
the music is in orbit  
and we must dance the dark matter  
that makes galaxies happen  
 
because  
 
tomorrows dawn  
believes only in gravity  
and will over analyze  
our transmissions  
calling us liars  
 
let's not waste the winds  
of this intoxicated moon  
on any truth  
that does not move  
our hearts to laugh