Streetlights winking like a well-trained enemy, wired to the gills and humming your elegy. Ancient kisses, so fine and fleeting, it's a long procession of hearts retreating. So get down. Just stay down, old man. You feel the ocean of time between seventeen and here, and all your roundhouse swings ain't connected in years. Well, slalom my hearse up Faithless and First. Fake the new pages if you can't rehearse. Disappearing sparks can come back again. You can carry dead moments like a fake gold standard, show off your shrapnel and punch through the plaster. These bars breed ballads. You can drink forever. But the bile and the tears gonna break like weather. So get up. Come on, stay up, old man. When all the vows ring hollow and you're howling for home, you wanna dive for the bedrock and bury your bones. Well, rattle my chains up Faithless and Main. Fake a salvation in the spitting-down rain.