The Langoliers

by Hot Lizard Boy

The Langoliers are on their way
So let us not idle long in love, dear
Though we slink deep in the shadow
They can smell our aliveness
And no matter how hot we are now
They will tear us asunder
And the moment that you beg for
Will spell our doom
They have no appreciation of passion
So, run, my darling, run
Run to the arms of another man
But lest you love him hot as this
Keep running still
The Langoliers will hunt you until you belong to them

Copyright 1999 by Hot Lizard Boy

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