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By coujeaux Date: 2002 Nov 11 Comment on this Work [[2002.11.11.22.28.13763]] |
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From th' moon a-risin' 'til sun come up, most evr'ybody understood, They to fightin' again, Sly blow his harp all over th' neighborhood. Weren't no secrets in they house, an every mouth start a-chatterin', Noses of them worktime busybodies pokin' in to what a-matterin'. He couldn't keep no job, an' th' only good he'd ever do was to die, She was showin' off her latest Johnny like a Bible to any passerby. Now I remember time not long ago when they was the happiest pair, Like some shiny perfection, th' whole world stop and have to stare. An' every lip in our town got bitten hide raw at whatever they had, Each unlucky sucker out of they circle pray at somethin' goin' bad. The wish done got granted, 'cause I never seen collapse any faster, Jus' like always, we got each other an' turn it 'round into disaster. This one make me think 'bout the way most of us treat folks we love, Some reason it hit me most of us got no clue to what God thinkin' of. Sly could only sing those blues as that woman kept pushin' him aside, Neither one gave a damn about anything 'cept their own foolish pride. But this mornin' one learn they lesson, a-whisperin' on dyin' breath, "Anoche todo lo que ame muerto"; last night all I love came to death. |