Aging, disgraceful and repeating

That little piano in the next room
Playing the part as so it seems
I would love to get up
Stricken with a comfortable crick in my jaw
Tired of talking and moving an inch by inch
Somewhere below the wooden steps at the park
Running they all are
Making romance a new idea
You peel expectations
The gravel road flattens those old tires
Looks like we are walking from here
With your fine addled dress
Wrinkled from the night before
They make raincoats for this kind of storm
Played out before
The hand goes to bed and feels so restless
Tingling with those little pins and needles
Where is the driver
Lost in the desert
What can we do to waste more time
With each other?
Drag those suitcases along the dust
Covering them in leaning ideals
Persuade me you young thing
Throw me down and beat my body
Lacerated to the excess of your fetishes
Is every part of me inside and around you
Yet
Becoming the trouble of this heart
I read it from the lining of your journal
Covered in cloth.
I said I needed more action
More excitement.
Turn on the ambiance of this room
And share your drink with me
Lets poor our hearts out
And lets end us very soon for tomorrow
Seems too promising.