Something in the Tea

Arthur Miller came to me inside a boozy dream
He passed a note on which he’d wrote “I wish I was James Dean”

I wrote one back in ink so black the words took on new meaning
It said “Arthur my pen is dry and I can’t shake this feeling”

Then someone whispered in my ear "Is this the train to reason?"
I looked at him and offered him gin though brandy was in season

He talked of of signs and Nazca lines I loved him like a brother
The sun came up he’d talked too much so I’d laid with another


Wheels shifted gears I’d aged ten years but looked like I’d gained twenty
The glass was full and flowing but my mind was drown and empty

Two children played around the grave of poems I had written
A simple cross to mark the loss of daydreams I'd once spitten


It struck me hard when that scene passed and I was east of Saturn
I saw the world from such a height I thought I’d found a pattern

Then God showed up and told me “Son I don’t believe in Jesus”
But wish to hell someone would tell these misinformed believers

The moon came round as I split town and headed for the city
Those fishnet tights in neon lights I’d always found them pretty

I've seen some things to make heads spin but never danced with perfect
They say that sin is communist and if so can’t we share it


Another time a different face I’d lost my hair and marbles
The floors awash with autographs and borrowed hotel bibles

Champagne on ice and games of dice unfinished and unspoken
This honest theif with lung of leaf and teeth ground down and broken