Zeppelins, blimps, and a chopper —
Over the moonlit sky they hover.
Pleased to be not alone under the stars
Even when all we have are empty jars.
Live like we’re immortal we shall.

Just when I thought the night was long,
Eventual thoughts came like a song —
Reminding me of a potential epilogue,
One that possesses a silent dialogue.
Memory is the last thing I want you to be.