Goodbye, It’s 1987

The phone is ringing, the kettle’s singing

This humid heaven is west eleven
The airless silence- June 87
The grey bed, next to the wall holds them
Tense but still asleep, dreaming.

They only wanted to want each other,
But that can never, ever happen
All the luck in the world won’t save you
You’re not broke anymore, you trod on their hands
So sleep on and on.
Goodbye and goodbye

I found a bullet with your name on it
I ran and hid it, you didn’t see it
Tanks rolled through the peaceful streets,
And smiling hippies held guns and grenades
Goodbye and goodbye

Let’s tax the wages of sin…

And in his dreaming, he rolls with strangers
As she looks on smiling faintly
Time stands still for a while
They still slide.
Soon, when they awake
They’ll shed sweat and tears in acts of love which say
Goodbye and goodbye