Singing Sad Songs Poem by Mark Heathcote

Everything feels solid
But everything's really, snow
And it's all just, sadly silently melting away
And then we're all gone
The only sounds are of your tears
And the click, click-clacking of your tongue
Singing sad songs, singing sad songs
And jocks pranging souped-up sports cars
Honking for more seconds—more glory,
More glory, more glory
Darling isn't that the real tabloid story?

The only sounds are of your sole stamping
Heels to keep out the cold as your skin
Once again inked tattooed with something
That makes everybody else's look inferior
Darling didn't you realise
We're-all-melting out to sea
Nothing is really real you see
Oh, yes everything feels solid
But everything's really, snow
And it's all just, silently-melting away slow
And then we're all gone
Like a ghost leaving an ivory tower in the fog.

Singing sad songs, singing sad songs
While all the jocks prang souped-up sports cars
Honking for more seconds—more glory,
More glory years, more ecstasy,
More pretty girls to take off their virginal winter clothes
Darling isn't-that the real tabloid story?
When you're losing all your beauty
Darling didn't you realise
We're-all-melting out to sea
Nothing is really real you see
Oh, yes everything feels solid
But everything's really, snow and ice
And it's all just, silently melting away
And then we're all gone.
The only sounds are of your tears
And the click, click-clacking of your tongue
Singing sad songs, singing sad songs
Singing, singing sad songs, singing, singing sad songs
Singing, singing sad songs
For just one more night, one more second long.