Cafe Society

Late at night,

when reality's failed and nothing is prevailing but the wind,

I come to you.

Out of sight,

like a fugitive trailing across a barren land, you let me in,

you always do.

My reason is caught by a sudden gust

of lateral thought that sweeps me

far beyond,

it's the opium of the night.

And the ocean of words

that we throw in the air

grows more absurd

and nobody seems to care,

it's a refugee's respite.

Cafe Society.

Late at night,

while the city lies sleeping and solitude is keeping me awake,

I think of you.

Dim your lights,

oh, I want to sink deep in that river of oblivion you make,

I need it, too.

Let me check-in my mind

with my coat at the door,

'cause I want to go flying

where I've never been before,

some inviting [some 3-syllable thing that ryhmes with "ravine"].

If the hand that you hold

in the dead of the night

is a little too cold,

the body seems just right,

it's a [some 5-syllable thing that also rhymes with "ravine"].

Cafe Society.