A Long Night at the Dreary House (revised)

[Majestic Sun]

This new dawn I hope to soak in the love.
Of what it means to live in the moment of day.
I smoke my long cigarette and smelling my scotch.
For the dreadful night that comes unveiling.
 
The argument of the shadow and light.
Stabbing my eyes from the orange streetlights.
There is a sensation in my heart, I hear Jazz.
I hear the sound of saxophones and percussion.
 
Then I continue to sit on my chair and wait,
For the dawn to give me a lick of morning light.
I cannot stand the streetlight glinting through the window.
I cannot stand the night which darkens the sky.
 
But Jazz will drive me to become a better man.
I meditate on the philosophy on the genre.
Then I take time to remember what it means,
To live and breathe the genre in my lungs.




Previous version:

It’s been a long day in the dreary house.
I take my long cigarette and scotch and relish
The thought of a new day through pockets
Of streetlight light stabbing through my home.
The night cannot get any worse, it gets even.
 
It tends to argue with itself unveiling the moon
Or the clouds which I feel is breathtaking in itself.
I feel a sense of dread in my gut, my soul splinters
Into two, I hope one day I could get my act together
As I drink this scotch, shoving it down my throat.
 
I sit and wonder if this new day will come.
Perhaps now, even the rain will stop pouring.
I will get down to breathing into this cigarette soon.
Another puff makes little circles of smoke fly.
At least now I can get a little bit of sensual grip.
 
The way I feel at parties or even at Jazz events.
For now, I will continue to think about new days.
The way I wander from thought-to-thought reminiscing.
This new day has to come, might as well dream.
This desiccated song I remember, that gloomy Jazz,
 
Where I think to myself on how slick the saxophone is.
Sometimes I dream about this new day over again.
I want this daylight to remain a jack-in-the-box for me.
Perhaps I can feel happy again, more or so enlightened
About what this new day can do for a man like me.
 
Afterwards can I reveal the notes I had planned.
For the coming of Jazz bands that’s coming to town.
Then I will get off this chair and go to their show.
For the gravity of Jazz that is crawling up my spine.
Showing goosebumps of awe on my own skin.
 
The night will give an encore for its longevity of darkness.
I in fact hate the dark, I believe in vampires and werewolves.
But they seem to exist only in the brain like prophesies.
As soon as I get up from this chair, I’ll wait for this new day
And the spirit of jazz which impacts my life.