June Gloom

Palm trees, you used to sway in my childhood vacation dreams.
But now you bend and break, not sure how much more I can take, click my heels
to take me home.
Photographs, captured moments of better times I had.
But as the photo collects dust, and the frame begins to rust, I’m ready to sell
off all I own.
My face is buried deep in this carpet draping concrete.
I wanna be stitched into this floor.
My heart’s racing to an unmarked finish line.
Trembling hands, idling mind.
Just turn out the lights before you close the door.
Coastline, mis-circumnavigating everything all of the time.
Devoid of all emotion, drowning in this fucking ocean, just click my heels to
take me home.
So sing a tune, this sunshine’s stifled behind these clouds of gloom.
And as I stumble to my feet, I can feel the summer heat; I’m ready to sell off
all I own.
Blank face staring back at me, I ask myself the question.
Well just what will become of my record collection?
And my face is buried deep in this carpet draping concrete.
I wanna be stitched into this floor.