I lay on a white hot bench Glowing arches overhead In the lap of a paint-chipped clown Fingers tapping his red-hot shoe Torturing medley procession of radios March through the drive-thru And each melody I hear A violent reminder of you Precious moments alone I'd give them away I'd burn at the stake To feel you near I'd lay on a white hot bench Glowing arches overhead In the lap of a paint-chipped clown Fingers tapping his red-hot shoe Over it, a Titanic end, fiery wreck, something magnificent Over it, nothing to bend, pablum extant to something significant I'm learning a lesson I'm humbled for pleasure Choked on my heartbeat I'm grateful for nothing I stared at the glow until I saw I'm mediocre and there's nothing worse