How's Your Night, Sam?

I destroy icons
for I am an iconoclast,
taking eyes with me
and leaving hearts on highways. 

they were so blue
in the morning,
but I had to leave 
them blinking. 

NyQuil heavy,
I am still a kid
in the body of a 
35 year old man. 

I wish thinking were different,
check my eyes
and tell me 
what I see,

You should write a song
about week long weeks
just about mashed potato brains
in a London fog.