by Nick Jaina

in the fullness of the moon
I'll sing my only sacred tune
and all the bitterness and hate
you can just scrape right off your plate
set aside your clever smile
come and lay with me a while
while you're drawing up your will
the apartment house is still
they shut the power off

when the moon is proper full
dip your hand into the wool
and let it slip down to the skin
feel the fever held within
remember when we thought we'd die
the cops fell out of the sky
and pushing through the night
your hand held my hand so tight
they shut the power off

rumors suit you just fine
they warm you like wine
past strangers and tight roads
and singing in the park
ten feet further in the dark
your saviors are all failures to me

© 2008 Nick Jaina