It's HalF pAsT nInE anD TimE tO LeaVE
With a smell of leaves here’s her voice yelling
"Can you wait?" from the other room.
Dancing on the electric wires my eyes have brushed the skyline.
It’s half past nine and time to leave.
I can’t remember summer days.
But I’m not scared. I guess I was always sleeping while she was padding lies on my shirts.
I close my eyes and I see white windmills. I swear I’m sober.
It’s half past nine and time to leave, when was the last time we went out?
How did she feel?
I guess I was always sleeping.
A door slams and it seems I’ve been through this before.