Una Canzone, Ein Getränk & Un Bais

The pianist is alit on the little, slipshod stage in the corner,
       He looks through you with glassy eyes, straight to the red and blue,
Song spun on a twisted loom, every note a heartbeat of your life,
       “Raise your glass, a toast to freedom, the will to fail!”

The barroom scene of man's folly wrapped in a garbage can,
       Leave the lid down and flush it all away, come and sit and pray,
To the gods of olde, to the powers that be, so that it won't burn so much…
       “Here's to lowered expectations and ground-up hopelessness!”

The bartender smiles, rag in hand, and pours another,
       You squint up at him and slur a word or two, he wipes up your life,
Spilled on the counter, next to the ashtray wherein burns your soul,
       “What a lovely crowd, tonight, dressed up in funerary garb, I see!”

You listen to the pianist as he tells his story to the empty air:

“I knew a girl, she had a mouth,
       A real pearl, a regular Hellhound,
Time and time again, truth unfurled,
       Sin-bound she was, drawn to fire.

“I loved her, I told myself,
       It didn't help that she loved me,
Complicated the whole matter,
       Beyond reconciliation, at that point.

“There were some obvious plot holes,
       You know, clichés and the usual,
Another man, a small dog, the usual,
       Lipstick on the collar, keys on the dresser.

“I knew a girl, she had eyes,
       A real pearl, a regular Succubus,
Spun our lies, together in a lovely world…”

“Pay up, pal,” the bartender spits and slips the bill,
       You look down at the counter without a word, your worth the cost,
Dripping from his rag, down and down, ashes within smoulders your soul,
       The black and red lights on the crowd's eyes strobes and pulses…

A memory from below comes up high, the cats cry in alleys far gone,
       The hand of fate contains two eights and two aces, they pray,
They pray, the mouth curls up into a ball and hits the gong, the village scatters,
       Up and up, the smoke signals read, “Pay for your sins, pal.”

Mewling children we all once have been, the pianist swaggers,
       He murmurs to the rafters, to the hidden desires of the hereafter,
Tune told on a sinister needle, “Did a camel leap through it?”
       They clink their tumblers and drink three more, three more.

The empty air listens to the pianist as he mouths his sobs:

“I knew a girl, she had no soul,
       A demon, a ghost, a wraith,
By many names, she tricked me,
       What was true, what was a lie?

“I cannot answer for the past,
       I cannot recompense for my regrets,
She drew me in her arms with a sigh,
       I was but lost for a lack,

“It'd make a poor film, I bet,
       No hooks, no twists, no surprise,
A romance without a token hero,
       Sex only sells so many scripts.

“I knew a girl, she had legs,
       With those, she walked away,
A real pearl, a regular Jezebel…”

“My marriage was a sham, here's to that sonuvabitch!”
       The jester twirls the pins, you gawk and point your tail,
She saunters up with malice in her groin, smiling like a jackal,
       “Here's to new beginnings, and the same old ends!”

You sign your name away to the barroom to-nite,
       To-morrow, maybe you'll reclaim it after a gutter-nap,
The coffin is built, plank by plank, the hammer falls in time,
       Playing along, the pianist is there until the lights go dim…

“Won't you pardon me?” she asks, a touch of apology,
       Unaccostumed to such degrees of false sincerity, you are stunned,
Your heart is hung on a nail driven through the bathroom wall,
       The eulogy is done, the casket is closed, the dearly departed departs.

The pianist listens to the empty air as you lower your baton:

“I knew a girl, or so I thought,
       Lies are spiders, we are flies,
The analogy is clear, so I think,
       Yet we still miss the trick.

“The same old tricks, the repeated refrain,
       A relationship like a farcical play,
Our minds the stage, our parts all played,
       Dancing, dancing, dancing.

“She was here, then gone,
       I was there, then fallen,
Heaven's missing an angel,
       Hell's locked its gate.

“I knew a girl, she had breasts,
       Which was a good thing,
Because that's, at least, something to miss…”

The bartender puts on his coat, takes out his key,
       From his pocket, out falls your life onto the floor,
He shakes it out, pursing his lips, wonders what it is,
       “What a night, here's to the ludicrous profit margin.”

The pianist grabs his hat from off the rack,
       Next to where your heart is still hanging,
He cracks a grin and laughs, the song rattling his brain,
       “I know, I know, I know.”

She sucks it off her lip,
       Your eyes rolled to the sky,
Breath like turpentine,
       Here comes the kiss…

[Adios]