Dear Lover: I exaggerated the vintage of the jukebox, the rest is true

That wink, the veil pulled down
That famous wink
Over and over in newsreels
Played in the barracks
Of your lovers from a distant season
Sip of beer, and wink, a nod of the head
Those boys going wild in their fatigues
The chaplain alone, cursing in his dusty cabin

But someone let the jukebox out tonight
Dear Lover
That old crooner there in the corner
Neon ablaze in a hot pink on your cheek
And it ain’t so easy right here
To find the proper timing for your trademark
There’s a different current to the vinyl

And a different breed of distance
Between your eyelids and mine

Something in the space between
That Oppenheimer never got around to calculating
That only the juke and the neon
Have anything to say about

Oh, dear one
Know this clawing in my chest
Do you?
I am a veteran of a different war

It is the neon light, only, that is onto us
It is the sound waves, only, that are onto us
The Stones LP, only, is onto us
Back when they were onto something

Let it find you where you are

Tonight the chaplain is hard at work in the barracks
Laying hands
And the cinema is empty
Though the film still flutters past an 80 watt light