Dead air
Host of acceptation
Boast of his brass band, done with a flair
The few and the gay, until avid is saying

Dressed to a tea
Do you remember me?
Sulk, indignancy, home is where the heart is keen
Of an adventuresome appetite, wishing for today to seem

A door on time and space?
Why, is an open question
Toward a new opportunity, is fade a way?
Consider us a relatively odd task, in the asking...

Are you ready, for an excitement that has no fate?
Undue the neglect you are observing, is mine to meddle?
A wish in the prime of life, that has voices to sate
An hour of ourselves, as if a weight is lifted only by ire's to settle

Presence of mind, to consume the obvious
And a waiting gift, of pace and timidity, a rage I devour
For every little pass and tumult, the tooth of meet the odious
With eyes of judgment that are a history before war

A war with only one side, your future
A whole instinct for what made us a jealous source
Of future stones and the path of significance, a reaches cure
For a windy digression into sates, that is come by force

Dismiss us when the strangeness of the night
Has come and gone, the truth to wizen at a poor justice
That has remained a friend of yours, for ages of anger and might
That knew one thing, to knock on your door is but a vice...