Daydreaming in an August afternoon
With Gordon Lightfoot on the stereo
And a flute of champagne in hand
The tears dance on my cheek
Wondering if everyone left, would I truly live?
As I took a drag of my cigarette, I waited for the answer
But I kept trying to stay awake
As I drank the last of the champagne and took my last drag
I decided to sleep against the soft melodies
Of Gordon’s voice
And the tears are swept away for another day
As the train I once wanted to ride has
Left the station
I have become imprisoned to stay
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This creates a mood and scenery I couldn’t help but feel along with you as I read.
Nicely penned. TFS