It was late so I thought that I’d write you a letter
From the slaughterhouse, end of September
I’m writing you now despite holes in my brain
They’re bloodletting summers I sent down the drain
There’s no one in focus now, no one’s around
Remember the perennial death of this town?
We crossed JFK to drink floats in the sand
You said it’s the last time, and I’ll be over it
Once the sound of your voice
Is replaced by another
Stay bent through the days
Sound of last summer
When it fades I hope you’ll take me like
A picture you forget about, vague like a scripture
And dote upon times we fell stuck in the sand
Endlessly gripped in our cadence and hands
The boulevard’s crossed as I sleep on the dunes
Call up my brother and wade through the ruins
Drink a rootbeer float to your name
Swallow the last dregs of unrepentant bliss
It’s the way these things go
I coughed and I blundered
Through bittersweet taste
One more last summer
I’m yours or another’s
It seems such a waste
Sounds of last summer
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