Aidan’s Rain

In the slim coffee house on 5th and Main,
where the wandering wires never do sleep;
in the liquid glass under Aidan’s rain.

The customers here prefer thicker grain,
the silhouettes know this doesn’t come cheap;
in the slim coffee house on 5th and Main.

Silent sips hide a mechanical pain,
that is bulletproof thick and twice as deep,
in the liquid glass under Aidan’s rain.

The electric feed off of egos slain,
with marrow-less bones the skeletons weep
in the slim coffee house on 5th and Main.

The heroes’ coats smell of sugar cane,
for virile and sweet is the scent they reap,
in the liquid glass under Aidan’s rain.

Alone, yet gathered, no space will remain,
with habits we hire and secrets we keep;
in the slim coffee house on 5th and Main.
In the liquid glass under Aidan’s rain.