The Blank and The Sober

The rain fell on Paris-
A subtle mixture of tang and remembrance.
The rain fell on Paris-
Filling the glasses full of wine.

The young came to party.

They came to ask questions-
The young, so naive.
And when the verses came-
The boys left
The sunrise.

The party left and went-
And left me all alone.

The caravan came and picked me up.
Liquor cabinets full.

And that day we left-
We left a mess of that city:
Lost in comatose.