The Tears of the Sad

The night makes it a fuzzy street light
And the machine’s in charge, and despite
The talks, the walks, the speeches and tones
The silent messages and unanswered phones

It’s breaking up and shutting down
And wandering around this empty town
And wandering around its empty head
Already accepting the idea that it’s dead

But it wonders if it was ever alive
Looking for meaning in the last four or five

Past lives it had
When the tears of the sad

Slid down
Making moist an already soaked frown