Another cigarette,
Another glass
another night alone.
More memories to fuel the fire
one more sin to atone.

The waitress smiles with sharp delight
As she braves the plastic night,
the workers work,the talkers talk,
the dead lie quiet in peace.
I question where I went wrong,
Did I play the part too real?
And if this is was the very case
did I make the audience feel?

But none of this, in any case
can recall that final kiss,
the way you melted with a sigh
and caused the sheets to hiss.

Maybe one more glass will ease the end
of questions such as this.