Now it’s jazz, the place is roaring, all beautiful girls in there, one mad brunette at the bar drunk with her boys. One strange chick I remember from somewhere, wearing a simple skirt with pockets, her hands in there, short haircut, slouched, talking to everybody. Up and down the stairs they come. The bartenders are … Continue reading
Bowery Blues The story of man Makes me sick Inside, outside, I don’t know why Something so conditional And all talk Should hurt me so. I am hurt I am scared I want to live I want to die I don’t know Where to turn In the Void And when To cut Out For no … Continue reading