In The Quiet Of The Night

In the quiet of the night,
The great beauty of the constellations
Can be seen by half the world,
Yet they go unnoticed by this pack of drunkards.
The cider seems to wipe the conscience clean,
All those words of repentance we fed
Our mothers are now forgotten.
We used to break bread together as children,
Now we pass bottled concoctions around,
Swilling at brews designed to burn
The breast and bash the brain;
We drink ourselves into a world of bliss.
We go on to tear down swings and
Attack the town until it's terrorised.
Just a laugh,
Just a high,
It's good to be part of it all.

Our party has yet to split apart.
Each individual has yet to become their own.
We are yet to make marriages, mistakes and babies.
Some may end up somewhere warm in the arms of a
lover.
Some may go on to do great things,
Some may work in the local supermarket.
One day perhaps we will pause and notice those stars up there,
We may stop to wonder at them in all their glory,
Those far away beacons of light,
Those little sparks of life.