Song

I was stuck in the city,
a drunk on the make,
cigarettes and whisky my lifeblood.

I was lost when I saw you
or I would've ignored you.
You could have been my downfall - you should have.

But life's made of suprises,
works by unknown devices,
what lifts us from the tramps in the gutter.

The rain soaked evening
had a late night jazz feeling.
The doorman had a saxaphone stutter.

There was leather upholstery
pock-marked with cigarette burns.
A pimp chewed a toothpick in the corner.

The sound of conspiracies
and a blind bluesman
playing like a funereal mourner.

I looked in your eyes,
You gave nothing away
and the smoke hung still with the tension.

You nursed an expresso
while I suckled on a whisky
and we interrogated each others intentions.

The taxi driver told us
that the war had begun,
you asked him to turn off the radio

The solomn voices
brought the day so much nearer
and I had to guide him where to go.

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And in the morning you were gone
'Sorry' scrawled across the mirror
and I writhed like death throws on the floor.

And I remembered the song
like a thorn in my finger,
slowly growing scared of the door.
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I'd have screamed your name
if you'd have only told me.
I was left with nothing to remember you by.

There was a queue down the road,
men ready to fight,
so I signed up ready to die.

The night before we left
I carefully cleaned
The mirror upon which you wrote.

Gave my hat to a beggar,
my flat to a creditor,
and never looked back from the boat.

War is cruel,
and cruelest of all,
I survived the whole bloody experience.

After years unheard,
barely speaking a word,
I returned to my own dissapearance.

I couldn't live in the city
and never the country,
so I travel with a salesmans books

and every night I put
myself through torture
trying to remember how you looked.

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And the mornings are all gone
I daren't look in the mirror
I've seen so many death throws on the floor

but I still remember the song,
like a thorn in my finger,
slowly growing scared of the door.
--------------------------

It was a nowhere town,
I was just passing through,
But I needed somewhere to sleep.

So I slunk into a hotel,
"the traveler's hell"
where the rooms were endearingly cheap.

As slumber demands
I visited the bar
to drink as much as my pocket would allow.

The barman watching TV
took my money from me
with a low begrudging growl.

My gaze wandered the tables
a smattering of people
quietly ending the day.

You nursed an expresso,
I recognised you instantly,
the eyes that gave nothing away.

I sat down beside you,
and I don't think I suprised you,
when I demanded that you give no explanation.

You never said a word,
but I still understood,
the line of your numb expression.

--------------------------
And in the morning I was gone.
Put my fist through the mirror.
Watched the blood fall to the floor.

And I forgot the song
when I saw the ring on you finger.
And I'm going to have to walk through the door.
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