all nighter

 

thirsty from whisky
the stars fall
in your violet hands
they bloom there

over the day where
breezy dreams scurry
around a night we drank
until you couldn't breathe

outside the club
we waited for more time
to develop but everyone
was going to work

as the sun met the crashing ball
the day dawned with sadness
you couldn't believe it
we'd been up for days
and damn those morning glories

 

Paul Lowe