Friday, January 2, 2009

Give Me One More Blues.

Drinking
is the sword
that's been hanging
down
over the sad, sad
clown
I've become.

Sitting

alone

in a bar
outside of town
red carpet burning
my mind was turning

oh
but what's the use
in dying
when all my dreams
are yearning
for
you.

So

I'll
down all the
yesterday
in a cold, green
bottle
of melody
the melody
of a drinking song
we sung
when we were
young.

And
now those
photos
on the wall
of me
hang
pallid like a memory
and memories
are just
whispers
that fade
in the

dusk.

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