The lady was playing me like a melody
A piece that I had lost
In the ask of sense
An alley in LA tossed


Warts of sorts
leave me a round to buy
Reveal the seal
of fate spent
Coming laying
Its truth down

A black of keys on a piano
In the creped part of a mind
Thru reality of age sent the rage
Gets mixed in three four time

And the lady is sweet at the microphone
She sings her soul for a dime
And the boy at the bar
Screams about tips in the jar
And how he needs to go home

A mime makes the faces
We know half of the reason
The other a half for show

The clock on the wall
Talks to actions of
people and palaces
I have been
A toast to the host
Leaves the keys almost
But they win in the end

Words of sad voices
In the drugs bought and sold
Come from the melody
of simply growing too old

The high of the smell and the sound
Come in the voices he shares
We all feel like we are found

There is a clock in my memory
It matches me note for note
It was placed by her melody
Mixed with faith and a little hope

I am the last of willing pain
I am the worst of the warts
I am the tongue sharp
Threat cuts straight to the heart

The voice of the girl starts to fade
The jade of the falling stars
Call forth from the bars
Last call to be made

Warts of sorts
leave me a round of drinks
Reveal the seal top shelf
of fate made
Come lay with me for a while

And the ground is as cold as a beer
And the melody quite stale
The dirt nap I am taking
Is my new jail before going to hell

The clock on the wall
Talks to actions of
people and palaces
I have been
A toast to the host
Leaves the keys almost
But they win in the end