While his master in the dark nearby inspects the hands, with a brutal eye, There's a policeman with an honest soul that has seen whose head is on the poleĪnd he grunts and fills his briar bowl with a feeling of unease.īut he briskly frisks the torn remains for a fingerprint or crimson stainsĪnd endevours to ignore the chins that he walks in to his knees. The dreadful poem scrawled upon the crumpled page. There are ladies who just simply freeze and dare not turn awayĪnd the widows who refuse to cry will be dressed in garter and bow-tieĪnd be taught to kick their legs up high in this vicious cabaret. Sex and death and human grime, in monochrome for one thin dime,īut at least the trains all run on time but they don't go anywhere.įacing their Responsibilities either on their backs or on their knees There are warrants, forms, and chitties and a jackboot on the stair. In no-longer-pretty cities there are fingers in kitties. Then leave you all to improvise their vicious cabaret. They give you masks and costumes and an outline of the story They say that life's a game, then they take the board away. "They say that there's a broken light for every heart on Broadway.
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