The Next Song on the Jukebox

Trapped somewhere
between the ocean and the sky

blown about like
bits of leaves and cigarettes

it is useless to ask why we end up
where we do

useless to regret the hours
so shamelessly wasted

happy enough
to find a place where time

moves slowly
for a little while

happy enough
to be spending your last bills

on one more drink
knowing the next

song on the jukebox
will be the one to set us free.

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