Killing the Mood

We were young,
when the days all seemed to bend to our tongues,
set, sounding out what we soaked in.
We believed, by the lights of birthday candles
we sealed our fate.
Something seems wrong but if I go along I am safe.
For the king, and by sword or by slander agree, while,
line by line we lay them down in a field.
And by lights of altar candles we sealed our faith.
Something seems wrong but if I go along I am saved.
Killing the mood, he meets me half past noon, with a head full of horrors and
rue.
Just relax, my ridiculous one.
So we’re told,
twenty years of preparation before you start.
Then bury me in credit cards.
So I plugged myself in to debt and decree,
till all the fight I had left was taught, bought,
and bored from me.
While débutantes danced students sat in their desks,
and the lights from their tellies did glow.
And from these small fictions
we learned our convictions,
which threats can be laid to control. (Hold still)
I didn’t want to clash, so I bet the past.
I’m not mad that I lost,
I’m just mad that I laid down the cash.