Well Past The End Of Night

By Billy Rock Mitchell

Well past the end of night

Where faint echoes take flight

Where silly boys acting as men speak from the heart

As buried truths and feelings do from the mouth depart

Why is it we could not be so frank

Before we got so fucked and drank?

Why do we need to keep in what so wants to get out

How do we stay so silent when we need to shout

It's seems so sad that even in these modern times

People refuse to talk about the past and all its crimes

The silly boys carried on drinking and smoking

Chatting away about sweet nothings

As more serious thoughts were busy stoking

More and more baggage floods out of the chatter box

As all the juicy dark secrets of the mind's door unlocks

Why did it take all this to get where we are?

Did we need the drink?

Maybe sober conversation can only go so far

Well what's done is done is tonight

And maybe we can lay to rest

The demons in the mind 

That afflict even the very best

The silly boys now retreat to their sleep

Pondering the movements of the evening past

Hoping they weren't a bloody drunken creep 

And as the sandman's sweet embrace rolls over these third rate Saturday knights

They look forward to the bliss and splendor of the next day's hopeful rays and lights

By Billy Rock Mitchell