Elvis ain't gonna catch up to me this year

midnight with the cats and blackened skylights
then sharing war stories with
angry old colonels showing off their scars
what can be done with a 3 ft. wrecking bar

reveling in whatever's sticking me
to that floor
between layers of ash and tar
and auld lang signs across the bar
no resolutions made
none broken

everyone is waiting for a new dealer
and a fresh cut of the deck
I can't hear myself think
over sound of thin, wild Mercury
I'm either dancing or stumbling
either way, please catch me

having trouble with doors, hinges
and there's no better sight
than the flames of sun up
drowned in cold Comfort
and Nowhere in the distance