imagine the crisp howl of horns
feel their welcomed vibrations
how they make the night seem so still afterwards
a hot night under a big august moon
people inside mingling with the humidity
as it clings to dewey brown shoulders
under the glow of soft yellow lights
we swirl our drinks slowly
such certainty in the rim of this glass
tell me no other place is real
it is all in the past and tomorrow is so far away
the music insists on our attention
and makes us close our eyes
becomes more than sound to my ragged soul
eyes shining like lights all around
this has truth to it when not much does anymore
