la verdad

what's more lonely...

a night not remembered or

a Saturday evening on the couch...

in a dark, empty room

with a plasma television

and a computer to consume

the worldly noise

but all you hear....

is a party next door

it seems crystal clear....

and on the roof

the sky is calm

and on the balcony

you can do nothing wrong....

but, another lonely night

in another lonely town

with another lonely groupie

holding you down...

and another motel floor

another story for the notebook

and another anecdote for the cure...

forever poor

forever discrete

never empty, though

and fully complete....

it's another night in the city of the saints

another dream

or is it fate....

what is more lonely then?

the bottom of a bottle

what is more lonely then?

the cold bathroom tile

but, if you are sober and

you absorb it all

the empty faces who

forgot their call....

a club around the corner

with hipsters galore

yuppies and wannabe actors

art students de jour

but, it is you and

your remote control

it is you and your lost, forgotten soul

in another life

in another dream

it was different but,

it is now serene.

it's nearing midnight

and you can hear the neighbors sing

'happy birthday'

and you think of your childhood

your family

your friends

and it all blends

you say goodbye...

to the twelve step program

you say goodbye....

and jump off the lamb

the demon's loose now

he's out of control

he's in your bloodstream

he's abandoned your soul

so what can you do...

who can you call

you just fade out

and forget it all.