They sing my refrain as if it came off a tea towel. Long Pei, two words. Tonight I keep time. Under the pier. In a single night. I feed them the line. They do not all take it. For a bar I am the backing singer in my own room. Jono, in the smear of faces, mouths the words I actually wrote. That is worse than the error. That is a kind of intimacy I did not put on the setlist. Tonight I keep time I let the wrong line stand because the room is up. Invented tradition: other people’s mouths. I will hate this later. Tonight I keep time Tonight I keep time. Tonight I keep time.
