Unplug these unreal chains
from the afternoon
and let booze dream
in the shade of the sun,

fragmented history,
the previous night's dellusion,
dreams of people sitting there,
facing me, this eye
steadyfast upon the horizon.

In the salty expanse
one can lose onself - even w/
a guide, some poorly tuned compass,
the winds of will still wanting
the fury of the temptress.

A mare she races, hooves beating,
tho she gallop like a stallion,
strong from the pack,
coming closer to the finishline
and the odds she'll payout ...

And she does,
w/ mighty thrust
upon the bow of faith,
me believing those days
were ours, to find out
they were only hers,

but at whose expense.

Suddenly the odds of roulette
seem worth the bet,
aimless ball bouncing toward
the next great defeat,

in the thunder and rain,
I need to unplug it and
to live for today.