Bourbon Street Rapture

​We’d heard that life was but a dream,

Had in a cold and bitter sleep,

As rapids, rushing to the deep

Swallow whole each living thing.

And here we learn the passing of the seasons. Bobbing at the surface, we speculate, we reason

With ourselves to be accepting of the ride.

We pour into oceans, at the mercy of the tide.

But that’s the trouble with reality,

We treat it like a tragedy,

The pain we feel screams louder than our pleasure ever seems to sing.

But If the whole world is to know how bright the sun can shine,

We can’t have it hovering over our half all the time.

And when the holy star reveals its glowing face, you and I will be lifted up, and taken from this place.

And if your soul evaporates near mine

Let’s gather in our private cloud, and travel over endless sky.

 Let’s embrace across a sharpened mountain peak,

And kiss in misty valleys.

Let’s thunder over campfires,

And collapse into filthy streets.

Let’s rise again as city steam, that smells of alcohol and pee.

But whatever we decide to do, let’s choose to do it soon,

Because out of all the rushing rivers we’ll see,
And all the “but a dream“s we’ll be,

Before drifting on another cloud, into the end…

What are the chances we might find each other’s hand again?

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