I find my pain killer in hand with the waking sun. A sun that wakens to dreams that are not done. I end my last thought with a slamming glass that clinks with that final thought. Awarded a few moments of strength as I dance through this thing called life. I change hands with my next partner, she wears a shimmering gown of red. She smiles as we twirl until another hand grabs me firmly as only the South can. A double handshake poured to satisfaction as I welcome my coming moon. And behind that moon the same dreams again.