A hot desert white stone drunken blitzed night, this is a story of me and a friend
Good tunes in my car, and a guitar, my friend and his roommate Len
"If I drive right, the road's almost too tight, but tonight we’ll go off the bend"
Well not quite, but there might be a fight, or a kiss or a diamond end

So off we went, trying to make a dent, in this area code’s reserve
They brought me in for sure they did for Saturday night's big show
We were stacked up and down, so we drove around, full of clever verve
But sometimes that feeling means it’s the season for the bad coals to glow

Started inside a sportsscreen side, “this sports bar’s bourgeoisie”
Plan made I'm sure in spades for our high tumble paid fake parade
I made some points like pop music disappoints, and both agreed with me
And then we paid up and put down the cups and to the next place on the way

Got to a place not too far out the way that for sure I can say here I hate
I got out last and locked up none too fast and crawled behind them then in
Was there once before, I walked through the door, and felt like I’d never find a mate
Waiting a little and turned down an offer, their faces smelling of gin

So back to the road that likes to go forward insouciantly on with The Show
When the sun is black and the moon is blue thats how I know that it's picking up
The music playing out of the car speakers saying how the band just howls and flows
But for me personally it's not it drastically, it’s not it, it's just not enough

At the next place spilling out it'll be a killing through shadows and shades gone black
Stepping through the doors not much of a roar, stepping through beer silent stares
And I imagine to myself while seating myself a silent night bar sneak attack
Bullets, smoke, breathe the air and choke, shells sailing red through the air

A thought came to me, then beautifully, that Thomas Campion might say
In this pool table, jukebox, cheap beer on the rocks, forget yourself type place
And as Len animatedly and with high energy talked up a barmaid queen
There were roses there, white lillies in her hair, there was a garden in her face

My friend leaned to me and said jovially he'd a story of her smug friend
And this was a part that I loved with my heart his stories they went over well
It had to do with her and some locals, – two -, who got her from both both ends
Alcohol-strong connection, our friendly affection, the moment was all I could tell

Later I walked out again, with my friend’s friend, and his queen Anne and her lace
Her friend didn’t care, they had a little sack of Fred Astaire, brimming with dried flowers
We car smoked and spoke and smoked and choked all the way through Saturday's space
We could all see, and it wasn't only me, who was weak within the hour

We all walked outside, nothing to decide, unlike me the night sky so clear
Then I said ‘where’s Pete?’, looked around couldn’t see, got back in and closed the door
We boom shook the room and the front seat too, while my friend had just disappeared
Eventually said goodbye (and I think they lied) – so back to the last road that goes forward

With my friend's friend in tow, coming to the end of The Show, I barely even know that he's there
Opened the window for optimum airflow as we drive through the night, it glows
Toward it we go, this guy knows, the backroads to the apartment they share
Got back ok, was a pretty big place, just glad to be off the roads

No one was there, to sleep went the square, guitar alone I continued The Show
And sang and played at a leisurely pace about a girl I could almost taste
Suddenly I heard them words, my friend, it’s absurd, comes home with some guy in tow
with a shaky voice, a loud voice, and blood all over his face

I heard him say "you don't even know my name" and words rose up like a snake
I've never heard my friend say such fighting words not once before in my life
The guy was big a hard labor kid and this man we couldn't overtake
After looking for weapons, come up empty lesson, I soon found myself in the knives

Never before had I been so aware of how I could just stab with a knife
And after some minutes he left with a stare,
And I would think afterwards how my friend didn't much care
Didn't mind that for him
I'd've just stabbed a man
But I know now,
that if I would have stabbed the man,
I'd've stabbed him
For myself,
Mr. Laissez Faire.
Last edited by parkt921k at Jun 13, 2008,