Bullshit Sunrise

A. P. Hebert

whoever’s house it was forgot to turn the balcony lights on
we felt around and kicked the ground for a place to sit down.
you were cold so i gave you my coat, and you came close.

we just sat there, on the swinging chair, breathing up the air.
hand in hand, watching the fireworks, nothing could compare.
systems crashing, inside i’m thrashing, in my mind the thought keeps flashing
this could be the start of something new

started to rain and only those too drunk to know below remained
even the band packed up, leaving only the sound of the rain
the water splashed your ankles, but you said you liked it that way

we just sat there, on the swinging chair, breathing up the air.
hand in hand, watching the fireworks, nothing could compare.
rain keeps splashing, inside i’m thrashing, in my mind the thought is flashing
this could be the start of something new

the sky hinted morning, you explained you had to go
i watched as you struggled with the sliding door, it went so slow
i didn’t budge, my broken heart aching
i didn’t budge, i only sat there hating

that bullshit sunrise took away from me what was ever so rare
the sheer despair brought by that orange glare was cruelly unfair
burned my skin, turned my heart cold, left me tearing at my hair
i didn’t say a word, only sat there hating that bullshit sunrise