Raindrops now sprinkle an earlier day’s suicide, so too, lightning strikes my beer can.
And come the moment where I’d wished the moon there, I’d yet to find the means to seize it. It’s an unwelcome catharsis as our cratered dream, along with the car, the keys, the carnal, and caprice, are possessed, tucked a deep blue jean pocket, and just above your rear, perfection had I ever traced it; now untouchable, rendered my choice.
Raindrops now sprinkle an earlier day’s suicide, so too, lightning strikes my beer can.