He said, \"The night is still young\".
Left a note with orange juice and flowers on the coffee table by the open window where I reached into your damaged brains and found the single remnants of hope.
You were not here. By the time I had woken you had gone and I could smell your perfume lingering. In blue rooms. I sit in silence with nothing to talk about. Just a picture of you in my mind. I hear the sadness in your voice echoing and I\'m alone. With the rising sunrise, listening to Hotel California, I remember
Last night dancing in the moonlight.