A Class Act

Some blues on the speakers
A glass of malt in hand
And let time take it’s time
Let it fall like sand
Sit in the dark
Aglow beside a fire
Sip each memory slowly
Cherish each desire
Let the walls peel in agony
Smell the burning paint
Your violin burns in the corner
While you smile like a saint
Leave these baubles be
Dead weight you don’t need
Sip the last of your gold
As the fire licks your feet
Clutch your pistol close
And refill your glass
Know that even as you go
You still have class
You’ve lost things of heart
And some of cash
Know that now these are trifle
For tomorrow you’ll be ash

– Raziel ©2012


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