Now my best days are behind me, and there may be some ahead;
But of this I’m very certain, they’re nowhere near my bed.
And I’m waiting for the phone to ring, but I don’t know who I want calling.
Perhaps someone who’s forgotten me in the middle of this dawning,
Or someone I’ve yet to meet in my world of broken fun-house mirrors.
Some useless person who can find some use in me,
Who in all the senseless things I do finds some company.
Someone who will leave me in the ebbing of my nights,
Leave me wondering if her lust was worth the fights.
So that I may mimic, more or less, my last and ultimate digress.