i can see where we stood, slanted tin sheets on the second story, commercial street lit up with excitement brought about only by the prospect of another friday night. the moon wasn't out then, but if you laid back just right, the metal and the cold and the stars made it better than the moon, and that's what i would call it if anyone ever asked.
(now) i can see where we stand, like marble giants skipping disci, or stones by the lakeside, where august on the shore can't throw enough to change the season, and as much as i'd like to blame the kid, it's not his fault summer isn't here yet.
and there's some weird comfort in being around you; maybe it's the crazy talking, or whatever was in that bottle, or maybe it's because you smoke the same cigarettes as i do, or because you ditch money faster than the interest rates.
*******, it's empathy.
you've been sad like i've been sad, and that's what it boils down to.