Concrete Sunsets

Young boy looking up at the clouds,
Moving against the silhouettes of trees,
And tall phone pillars,
Thinking of what it would be like,
To ride along those wings of faith?
Would he be the dark or the see-through?
The bright and white or the one hiding the sun?
A glow of red, orange, blue in the distance
The small suburb houses seem to sleep still
With all the lights off, it's 2 am

Then he's shaking, asking, whispering under his breath,
The sounds falling from his lips in despair,
"Would it be alright,
To step on that bus, on those clouds,
If I'd end up in London or Heaven,
(whatever)
It doesn't matter.
I'd watch the people pass by day after day,
And all my troubles would be gone."

In his mind, he sees the white lights
But no heaven tonight, love
Just the colors surrounding his hospital bed
As he lies there,
Clinically dead
1...2...3... how many more minutes?
Concrete sunsets in his mind.

The love in his smile,
The killer in his eyes,
Or the laughter in his heart?
Which will win tonight?
Which will... outshine the sun and put the moon to shame?