[Outro: Victoria Davidoff]

Strange

That was dramatic

Last night we were certain the world was collapsing

That we were tumbling through a terrible but glittery kaleidoscope

Angels hopping from rooftop to rooftop

Devils and ghosts curled inside motel beehives

Sleeping in hot, feverish honey

Everyone declaring eternal love

People making promises that they could never possibly keep

Not even until the morning

Eternal despair

And now look, morning

I dust myself off

I step into the light and I let the sun warm the places that were cold all night

The bats have turned back into pigeons

Conducting their usual business

I can hear the machines coughing themselves to life to make their awful coffee

The delivery man is still late, I can tell because Rosh is yelling

The universe, it seems, has survived us

The funny thing about youth and its spectacular overreactions

Is that you believed every feeling arrives dressed as the final one

That every heartbreak is permanent

That every night is the last night on earth

But morning always arrives like a very patient waiter

"Another day, another day?" It asks you

And somehow, after considering everything you deal with

You nod and get back up to do it all over again anyway

Because what else can you do?

And the sun we all stand under has a way of dissolving these things

It rises without judgement or rude remarks

It really does not give a hoot what we swore to each other in the dark last night

And in its gargantuan warmth, its towering light

All of our so-called grand tragedies become small human weather

Just passing storms in teacups

So here we are, a little older, a little wiser

And slightly embarrassed about the theatrics

But alive, which, all things considered is not a bad outcome, right?

Anyways, goodbye and goodnight

We were in that room for too long