Quiet Sunday evening
It melts out my pores
And cries out my being
Soaking out the Saturday before
A night I barely remember
Since it felt like a dream
Of soaking in the summer
So much longer than it may seem
The smoke fills the air
Hanging like a banner
Forgotten by midday's glare
The music's hum and a singer's stammer
And yesterday's times
Leave me with today's calm
Growing with the vines
And withers with the song
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