David J. Allison I have all the time to lose
And hear the echo of my shoes
As I'm strolling down the corridor of my hotel
I pass by an open door
And see someone I'd known before
Making romance to a shadow that will never tell
And another room is red
Just like the blood upon its bed
And the odours 'round my head
Are records of the things we said
The room across is drowned in black
From promises we'd taken back
Never fearing someday that we'd look for bliss in hell
Leaning up against the wall
Recalling twilights in the fall
And the voices in the hall are blending into wails
Lamps, they flicker soft and low
Just enough for them to show
The drifting shapes behind the curtains ripping from the rails
All the ghosts are coming in
Menageries of sighs and skin
Judges in a rueful din
Damning adolescent sin
Fingers brush, so sweet with blame
For every wrinkle knows my name
And every whisper tells me of the way my honour fails
Running for the back door exit
While my sinking heart still begs it
Lurking looks from crooked doorways
Never could cast guilt in more ways
