been around the block
for too long
around and around
like a ****
carousel
like a ****
ceiling fan
going so fast
to nowhere
you couldn't
believe
the bars are closing
and the real men
headed home
to their real wives
and their real bed
in their real homes
maybe a kid
or two
if not
maybe a dog
to look after
yeah
yeah that looks nice
paint that picture
so pretty
and the ones left
are the ones
who slump sideways
in alleyways
or bow their heads
in prayer at
the bar
sun coming up
on the east horizon
as the doors lock
as the drink fades
as it all blurs
into a whirlwind
of time and luck
and missed opportunity
a tornado of everything
going so fast
to nowhere
you couldn't believe