All my heart is waisted on the dead and dreaming. What’s that leave me with? My sins and a feather in my hand, stolen from an angel who never showed up. Answered prayers or empty promises? Is there a difference? I can offer my soul and life as penitence, but not even the death accepts wooden nickels as payment for a ride into hell. Lucifer is bargaining for a new life and I’m just sitting here wishing I could fly. High as a kite and feeling as low as a frogs balls in mud. I want to be a light but all of have is wishful thinking and that gets no one anywhere. There’s no one home, even in a house full of misunderstanding and unanswered, unasked questions. I should quit while I’m ahead. I should just sleep but there are no answers in dreams. Nothing tangible or relevant that God or the Universe discuss by the campfire that burns over the ashes of my wasted life. One more glass and I promise I’ll find understanding. Under starlight, under faded skies walking on Sullivan Street. One more glass and I’ll forget. One more glass and I’ll stop looking and waiting and caring. Which way leads us home anyway? The compass points true north and I’m still facing south. Chasing a ghost found in every smile while I drink my way away from questions I should never ask. I’m drowning in my own hallow worth but shining like a new penny. It’s all my thoughts are worth anyway. Don’t try to follow me. You’ll only get lost.