They call me The Snake.
I'm a slithery snake man,
I eat bad food and wash it down with whiskey,
I ride the trains with Curtis Mayfield in my headphones,
I wear leather shoes,
and sleep in a rusty bed,
I got one glass eye,
and one that works,
keeps a lookout for witches, liars and jerks,
my father was a lion,
my mother was a dove,
they taught me stories about a devil above,
I buy cheap suits and keep a harmonica in my pocket,
a pusher tried to push me once,
I pulled his shoulder from the socket,
I step from the platform and into the street,
a bum and his mangey dog,
are the first I meet,
he shouts, "Hey buddy, gimme some change,
I gotta get a train to my baby, she's been acting strange."
I say, "I saw your baby and she's got a new man,
she don't need you no more you understand?"
He screamed, "Go fuck yourself!" as I walked on by,
The rays of a skyscraper sun were cutting through the city sky,
it was good to be home.
3 comments:
Urban. Gritty. Aches like a dark alley of broken men. One or your better works.
Thanks for the comment, it's really appreciated. And what The Sqaure Corner said. Fricken awesome. :P
I've been saying to myself the past few weeks, what the fuck am I going to do, except hustle for the Man? I gotta write it, scan it, and bag it.
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