St. Jade
John Samaras
The nights are growing cold
As winter takes its toll
Distorted visions make
Hours turn to days
This time they won’t buy
Another word that you say
Oh well, why bother?
So here’s another cliché
I want my place in the sun
To ignite both of my lungs
When beauty turns black
Expectations fall flat
This time they won’t buy
Anything that you say
Oh well, why bother?
I don’t mean any harm
Slowly degrade
At your own pace
Pray to St. Jade
She’s just running late
I’ve fallen into a spell
You know the feeling well
Languor is in the air
I can’t stand the glare
This time they won’t buy
Anything that you say
Oh well, why bother?
In this game of charades