from hotels in the middle of the night
i'm calling you out
to candles cling tentative flames
but they burn just the same
just in case you forget
sick in the silt of the strangest taste
i've hated today
still something sings within the vein
i forget to fail
i forget to complain
how much more can we stand to stay
before clouds complain
soaked to that critical stage
with the overdressed words
of the well-meaning vague
how much will the Leitmotiv sway
to compensate for our fallow-yet-vigorous play
on this century's take
on the lived-but-yet-named
hold out, hold out
because this moon is twice as good
when you see through a year of nights
what you thought you understood
set out, set out
because this haze is bound to wane
it can no longer pretend to hide
the will of third-class seats on tomorrow's trains
