Last Call For Misfit Heaven
The sign buzzes like a migraine over sticky floors and wobbly chairs in this almost-closing bar of half-paid tabs and unfinished fights
The jukebox wheezes out a classic that has played through too many breakups
too many makeups under parking lot lights
We’re all here in our thrift store jackets
smudged eyeliner, work boots, dress shoes
clothes we bought because the price was right
And someone flips a barstool
shouting “one more round for all the weirdos who dragged their broken asses through another fucked up night.”
We survived the group chats, the layoffs
the quiet “we should talk
” We survived the days that kicked our teeth in and laughed at how we walk
If this is all we get right now
it’s still more holy than their flock.
Last call for misfit heaven
line up all you heavy hearts
Raise your glasses full of water, beer, cheap wine
whatever starts That sudden shout of “I’m still here
I’m still not pretty but I’m brave
” Last call for misfit heaven
one more song for every soul we couldn’t save.
There’s a girl who draws on napkins
heavy ink crowded tight in black and blue and secondhand cologne
There’s a boy who sings too loudly
voice all crack and gravel
but he hits a line sometimes that cuts you right down to the bone
There’s a couple holding hands like the last two kids left in the waiting room of this dumb planet
holding on to make it through
And I’m leaning on the bar
thinking “if this is all the heaven we can get
then fuck it, I want a thousand nights like this too.”
We were promised golden cities, shining gates
and spotless minds
But I have learned more love from drunk apologies and cheap boxed wines
If grace is real
it’s hiding in the cracks and all the warning signs.
Last call for misfit heaven
line up all you heavy hearts
Raise your glasses full of water, beer, cheap wine
whatever starts That sudden shout of “I’m still here
I’m still not pretty but I’m brave
” Last call for misfit heaven
one more song for every soul we couldn’t save.
When the lights come up and the staff starts stacking chairs and counting rings
We’ll stagger through the parking lot and cuss about the stupid
sacred things
Like the way we always fall too hard for people who don’t know their own worth
Like the fear that no one really saw us since the day we fell to earth.