somedays

i hear the scratch

of my ever so old

hard and cold

vintage radio

as the sunlight

slants its way

from cover of night

into a new day

on the marble floor

through that open

wooden door

they often play

songs from the '80s

which are always mixed

with the same old

worth a pound

scratchy sound

that is so typical

of my hard and cold

oh ever so old

vintage radio

'n' there are moments

amidst glowin' sunlight

when i lift myself up

like a fragile lost kite

to raise my frail arms

like an insane drunkard

and slowly tap my feet

as the beats grow

loud and hard

befriended with the

same old scratch

that's so typical of

my hard and cold

vintage radio

oh i am all alone

darlin' you're gone

and no one's watchin'

my intoxicated

ever so lowly rated

drunken swirls

in sunlit alleys

'n' shimmerin' pearls

of our faded past

that plays everyday

in the same old

never so bound

scratchy sound

that's so typical of

my hard and cold

vintage radio

and no one's there

to make fun of these

borin' repetitions

that i'm so fond of

kissing again 'n' again

again 'n' again

for i'm stuck in a

repetitive cycle

of loss and gain

that cheats on me

and never gives me

my part of gain

for i lost you

in the wreckage

of a heavy steam engine

of an old chugging train

that i can never forget

for it keeps knockin'

slow and consistent

on the scars of my brain

again 'n' again

again 'n' again

nonetheless

i close my sleep deprived

never revived

drunken eyelids

and swirl to the beats

of songs from the '80s

which are always mixed

with the same old

worth a pound

scratchy sound

that is so typical

of my hard and cold

oh ever so old

vintage radio

because this is all i have

left of your soul

as i twirl in intoxication

and shut down reality

in wanderin' fascination

with raised frail arms

'n' echo of tappin' feet

for i am a drunkard

'n' i dance on my terrace

because i can see

in the middle of my

carefully woven fantasy

that oh darlin'

this time we're gonna

make it to