Smiles

Where do smiles go on Sunday nights.

Do they get tired like neon lights,
before the sunrise.
Do they fade like sparks from an orphan's eyes,
after morning's demise.
Do they run to their old lovers' arms to find,
the warmth of no surprise.
Do they stretch their legs on the wet pavement,
the night it rained twice.
Do they sit by the sea of memories,
watching the dark waves rise.
Do they search for the lost mistake,
tryng to wrong the worthless rights.

Where do smiles go on Sunday nights.