Virgin February Brewing

What do you believe in and what would it mean
If they played your songs on local TV?
And what would you want for my old selfish soul
That flies all around in the uncontrolled boil.
So, steal my old jacket and socks and ties too,
Long for the window I stared back at you.

Honey, you know they don’t name Nor’Easters
And these days the best films don’t last long in theatres.
I remember they poured lagers at the V.F. Brew,
Played old tapes full of footage that couldn’t be true.
Stark blue bear visions, critiques and malpractice
Full of outdated terms and a sought after actress.

Virgin February Brewing labels peeled from glass,
Carcasses shattered old bottles don’t last.
You’d buy me my gas while I stared at the floor,
and I counted clovers, some threes and some fours.

Stomach your burdens and make like a hare,
Knowing, yet waiting, to no longer be there.
Your old selfish soul can rest well with mine
And treat for something new, fresh from our time.