Hello again, everyone. I'm putting the finishing touches on a few humor pieces that I'll post in the coming days, but for the moment here is a song. I occasionally write lyrics for a musician friend and he wanted a ballad. Since lyrics are the bastard cousin of poetry, I thought I'd toss it up and see what everyone thinks. The meaning is pretty apparent, I spent a few months overseas and left behind someone important. Yes, even the resident court jester has a soul, albeit shriveled and ill-used.
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DOWN COBBLESTONE
Stand still at midnight
Salute to the spotlight
With a good joke I should not repeat
Room dressed in madness
Beauty in a black dress
At a table that looks over the street
Oh the girls of York
Don't know who I am
Which is all right with me
I don't give a damn
So I’ll buy them a beer
I’ll sing them a song
And tell a story that isn’t my own
Somebody will take me home
And I’ll walk a mile with the devil
Down cobblestone
One more at last call
A walk out to the wall
The memories all blur in my head
Thousands of miles
A hundred girls’ smiles
But they don’t feel the same in my bed
Oh the ghosts of York
Can bury a man
But I cannot fight
What I don’t understand
I made a call cross seas
It wouldn’t go through
Can’t lay claim to something I don’t own
So now, it’s time to go home
And I’ll walk a mile with the devil
Down cobblestone
Windy train station
I’m losing my patience
With an engine that’s never on time
Slow ride to London
Then back where I came from
But I don’t know what’s left there that’s mine
So goodbye to York
And all that you stole
I took one more path
Without a pot of gold
It doesn’t matter now
I stayed far too long
But your city just wasn’t my own
Maybe she’s waiting at home
Where I’ll walk a mile with the devil
Down cobblestone
Very nice. I've never been an expert with poetry, so all i can say is, i like the rhythm present, the 'walk a mile with the devil' is a fantastic image, and generally it's a very good poem. Sorry that i can't say more.