Seattle Song

Seattle Song

Andrew Mourningstar

 

Angry kids run around in the Nirvana Night, screaming:
When will it be our turn?

 

In thick flannel armor
they roam the streets
breaking things for fun

 

while sad, defenstrated heros
in worn overcoats

play the blues in the rain

 

It's cold in the rain at nite
the concrete is hard below the head—
the bodies outstretched,
sleeping on yesterday's clothes

 

And the rain just keeps comin down, clouds—
the gray day of the soul
begins again tomorrow

 

while They sip 5 dollar lattés in warm cafés,
another star is born,
another baby dies,
another mother listens to the lies, and cries

 

My Heroin arrives on angel wings
and leaves on demon’s back

 

I dream of Her at nite, on the naked floor—
waitin on the demon dawn
to cast a little light on all the sorrow

 

Another 8 hours of darkness to kill
til She returns again tomorrow

 

 

© Andrew Mourningstar