Last call at the joint down the street
regulars push away from the bar
I’ve got headphones on, my Friday night retreat,
playing pinball, a planet-less star.
These are days I’ll examine from afar
and think what a waste, what a lack
of imagination, if only I could take time back
stow it in reserve for some future use,
a museum, a movie, instead of this track,
no free game, a life down the chute.