In the Day

In the Day

It all seemed so important then.
I can't remember why,
But there was an edge to it,
A kind of pressure pushing on
Into the night, into the darkness,
Into the hazy madness of lost days,
Nights lost in smoky blurs
Of endless talk of music, books,
Philosophy, sophistry, politics,
Sexuality, angst and existentialism.
Wandering exotic mental trails
Where the air was thinner than the facts
We knew it all by knowing we knew nothing