Tonight is the night
These boots are made for show

Written by an indignant hand,
More dignified than mine

Thin as wire, quick as fire
Quick as swallows backward in the night

A peacution freeze
In the midnight breeze

And to that wretched end,
We sold our souls

New beginnings, novel readings
Mindless mercies

You’re never too old to be told
A fragment concludes the given jest

Older persons know what to do, when to do it
And it is best done slowly than not at all.