The Slow Season

Pushing that cloth and your shift is old

The Red Shift never closes down but last call is close

You know if you move too fast you'll be falling

If the mirror was ice it would already be thawing

Getting dirty like yesterday's snow

Still you race to fly down the street

For the last gasping minutes of the scene

Take your place with the last wallflowers

The same back corner 'till they make you leave

And you're paying a lot though it's dang near free

For dimly lit fantasies

You always watch the ancient clock glowing above the bar

Sipping the same luminous drinks

Under the same old hands' sweep

There's so much love in those wretched souls

Hopping to where the darkness pools and they all seem to glow

Aim for the hazy lights dodging black holes

Who still don't know that it doesn't make them special

To be selling death to the mortal

Their opinions ringing out over the loud bar band blues

You're paying a lot though it's dang near free

For your dimly lit fantasies

You always watch the ancient clock glowing above the bar

Sipping the same luminous drinks under the same old hands' sweep