It's fast, the jazz that plays in the kitchen,
there's only one light on but it has three lights on it,
           pointing up,
It paints shadows on the couches,
the wax is dry but there aren't any more candles to light,
the ****** mary's still a ******,
at least the one at the table,
they turned the mary into candles for sac religious college kids,
I don't think they got them to be disrespectful
      yet still,
           we laugh.
Homework, books, lighters, and cameras.
It feels warm so I put on a sweater,
it feels like I'm being hugged,
sometimes a hugs not long enough,
but I feel wrong never letting go.
I guess the shadows hug me too,
I'm being held tonight,
I want to be held by you...
I wish the warmth and the shadows were you