I lay on a white hot bench
Glowing arches overhead
In the lap of a paint-chipped clown
Fingers tapping his red-hot shoe

Torturing medley procession of radios
March through the drive-thru
And each melody I hear
A violent reminder of you

Precious moments alone
I'd give them away
I'd burn at the stake
To feel you near

I'd lay on a white hot bench
Glowing arches overhead
In the lap of a paint-chipped clown
Fingers tapping his red-hot shoe

Over it, a Titanic end, fiery wreck, something magnificent
Over it, nothing to bend, pablum extant to something significant

I'm learning a lesson
I'm humbled for pleasure
Choked on my heartbeat
I'm grateful for nothing

I stared at the glow until I saw
I'm mediocre and there's nothing worse