Homecoming song

On rooftops all across this damn city, staring up, leaning back. Lonely fools starlit. Never wanting to climb down, wanting to tear roofs away like their own sleepy eyelids, and let milky way spill, seep into the walls and carpet, and spend days curling under rain growing moss on the upright piano keys and the recliner and the children, slumbering centuries until the clouds and sun fall into green and orange and then black. And they'll sit in moss and with children in lap, recline, stare up in silence, and wander home.