Drinking Song #2

The pulsing street reclaims you
With it's slippery tongue
Flickering, a blue flame
Round your sleepy head.

Comrades in your finest hour,
Held aloft in smokey rooms
And cheap hotels
Apart and invicible.

I know why they call you the wild one,
The frightened one,
The lonely one.

The one who lies a spalsh of suit,
Against cold paving
And remembers
When you were young.