Lying in a field of cigarette butts, my hands are both tied. Must have been some crazy night or something of the kind. But the drinks don’t last forever and that’s perhaps just why I’d rather live dreams and then I can die.
And the dead grass sticks to my skin but there’s a beautiful sky. And the dirt coats my feet in October.
“Where are my shoes?” I ask the nearest guy. He’s got lipstick stains on his chest and his fists rub his eyes. Looks at me so strange for a reason I won’t remember. But our nights don’t last forever, like the cigarettes where we lie. And our thoughts wont replay November, but I can always try.
I’ve got a couple of bruises, I rub my thighs. The pain helps me remember. Call me what you will but I’d rather live this way than sleep through and die. Because the stars wont shine like this forever, and I want to lie awake with them every night.
There’s a field of faces I’ve never met, all sleeping. I walk from the edge of the water to the side of the road. “Hey, could I get a ride,” my hair’s in my eyes. This guy says okay.
My hair smells like cigarettes. I’m sitting next to this suit. He smells like lemonade and has midnight eyes. I smile inside but am silent, he asks me where we’re going, my lips move “by and by.”
That’s just how we live right, that’s how I get by. I’m not happy till I’m running away. He’s fixed on my eyes. “Well, do you need a place to stay.” So I don’t say goodbye.
Now the sun stays high through November and that’s perhaps just why I’d rather live fast while I breathe and then I can die.