She was a young lover attracting all shades of sadness
But she was mine
One night under heavens bridge she laughed at the gun smith
Who said my mechanization will bury us under all those pretty spent cassing
I walked back to havens alley
Where a wino and dedicated hobo told me
Not to lose hope and take your laughter seriously
I light a cigarette
They pulled a rainbow from their pockets
And said it’ll be a warm night
it was 32 in the shade
I looked into her eyes and saw that
She was uninterested in my boredom
That was the last time we spoke
