Frosty da snowman
Bluelighter
look at me cries the darkness
look at me cries the little beasties
look at me cries the little children laughing in the night
tip toeing through a melody
dark bass full and brash
the boom boom summon of thunder
a tectonic plate crash
look at me cries the midnight
look at me cries the players
look at me cries the misfits drinking through the night
sipping down a summer
sweet embrace and tangy
sweet glasses of tea and mint leaves
a lazy sway in the breeze
look at me cries the starlight
look at me cries the streetwalkers
look at me cries the way side comediennes casting off jokes to the sewer lines
finger snapping through a meeting
half finished glances
licked lips and twirled pens
adjusted pant lines and the rustle of nylon
corporate America’s ode to sexual tension
look at me cries the moon
look at me cries the empty neon sign
look at me cries the illiterate criminal trying to read a subway schedule
spinning a cd to take the pain away
blasting that music, violations inevitable
milking a tune for all it’s worth
flirting with sadness; a dance
look at me cries the fireflies
look at me cries the all night convenience store
look at me cries the abused wilting quietly, stoned and smiling
flipping quarters with a magician
stealing tricks and illusions
learning the sidewise conversation
distracting the crowd and flirting with escaped doves
look at me cries the midnight
look at me cries the pain
look at me cries the empty taste of rejection
look at me cries the little beasties
look at me cries the little children laughing in the night
tip toeing through a melody
dark bass full and brash
the boom boom summon of thunder
a tectonic plate crash
look at me cries the midnight
look at me cries the players
look at me cries the misfits drinking through the night
sipping down a summer
sweet embrace and tangy
sweet glasses of tea and mint leaves
a lazy sway in the breeze
look at me cries the starlight
look at me cries the streetwalkers
look at me cries the way side comediennes casting off jokes to the sewer lines
finger snapping through a meeting
half finished glances
licked lips and twirled pens
adjusted pant lines and the rustle of nylon
corporate America’s ode to sexual tension
look at me cries the moon
look at me cries the empty neon sign
look at me cries the illiterate criminal trying to read a subway schedule
spinning a cd to take the pain away
blasting that music, violations inevitable
milking a tune for all it’s worth
flirting with sadness; a dance
look at me cries the fireflies
look at me cries the all night convenience store
look at me cries the abused wilting quietly, stoned and smiling
flipping quarters with a magician
stealing tricks and illusions
learning the sidewise conversation
distracting the crowd and flirting with escaped doves
look at me cries the midnight
look at me cries the pain
look at me cries the empty taste of rejection
