quarto doesn’t last a weak crush lingers
like a festival of moss
the clerk of all passports takes me round
for a drink at a popular nightspot

I hear the voice-over from the start of Dirty Dancing
playing in the lounge and feel sedate
sedated
like one more krispy creme would set me up for life

if it’s not one thing it’s another,
if it’s not your fault it’s irrelevant
either way keep it sober
and sweet like some perpetual valentine

I read your letter o’er again
it says what it doesn’t say
for so long I’ve wanted you to be my pretty queen