Maxwell Demon Rock Hand Jive (or some Bizarre Collab with a hot chick)

I felt the eyes upon me, like a Space Oddity out of control. I moved in and I moved out. A silent swerve from the door to a bar at midnight and I'm buying a round. There's nothing I can do. But drink it in and drink it down.

A guitar rift and a drifting mind. The bartender called me Lazarus and I looked down at my scars.

"Look up here man. I'm in danger!"

I screamed it out but it was silent and played itself out in another line.

The Troubadour was running somewhere behind a blue bird smile and I wondered to myself about freedom and fame and selling myself to the cash of the day.

Commencing countdown, I say and I'm a space cadet with cosmetic dreams, just hovering above you and me and this makeshift narrative that leads from you to her to me.

"And I think I know which way my spaceship goes..."

I toss back another shot and take it in.

We lock eyes and I cut my gaze to her

"I just wish it'd been me, I wish I'd thought of it,"

She nodded like she's heard my thoughts.

I'm ten feet tall and I know I need to walk it back. I came down for the age solar, I say.

And you look at me like it's something you comprehend.

I smile and order another round.

There's amphetamines in my pocket and a fuck in your smile and you're saying things like you're a makeshift Kurt Wilde and I'm buying the danger in your eyes

It's a steam steady roller and your smiles lying and we're a trio outside of here.

Reckless and lost. Tired of wasting gas outside of the atmosphere.

Bring it down to the boys of Quadrant 44, she said and I looked her up and down. Those boys and their viscious metal hounds, they don't come around here no more. But I let her talk until her eyes found my words.

I was looking for Oscar Wilde and emerald dreams. I don't belong here, I thought and she mumbled something akin to check ignitions and there was a moment of me and nothing and fear and a quiet throw of hands metal horns and surfer slang and a hundred thousand miles of standing still.

I can't take your eyes, she says, Heroic and strong.

I laugh it off and clutch my heart, unusual beat. It's a die a little later moment and speedball to my mind.

I push you out and away. But I nodded and let you go

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm still alive," I say to no one and nothing, maybe the 44 boys...I was was 6 feet down in July...in November...how do I walk it back down?

"Maxwell led the demon rock hand jive."