Riding On The Wings Of The Night

The afternoon sun slowly lowers its head
towards the ocean in the distance
and the lights begin to flicker on, great neon
lighting up our world with imitation light
because we are too afraid of what might lurk
out there in the darkness which surrounds us
like a deathshroud, wrapped tighly.
I stand on the corner waiting for you
to come along driving in your fancy Mercedes
or is it a BMW? Maybe a Lexus
no matter, what matters is the tryst
that until it happens we are unaware of its existence
so I wait leaning against the wall of
some sleazy bar or a closed up adult book shop
smiling as I see you round the corner
but you don't stop, just pass by
so it must not have been you and I wait some more
smoking and talking to passersby
sometimes taking one of them into an alley
it's only business, don't be concerned
I will be here waiting when you show up
driving your Lincoln Continental
or was it a Caddilac Coupe De Ville?
I never remember, but no matter
because here you are to pick me up
give me a ride, give you a ride
I feel so much richer when you drop me off
at the corner, in front of some sleazy bar
or closed up adult book shop