Bang To Rights
Love died last night and I hadn't a clue
that the smoking gun was held by you.
You covered your tracks with alibi's
and dirty, rotten, low down lies.
Whilst I was serious, you were having fun,
and it was you who held the smoking gun.
The corpse of our romance lies in the gutter,
cut down in its prime by a trigger happy nutter.
You promised that this time it was for real,
and I fell, like a fool, for your crooked deal.
Your cheating ended my winning run,
and it was you who held the smoking gun.
Our love died and was buried yesterday,
when loads of mourners came to pray.
They offered condolences and said its a shame,
but that you sure knew how to play the game.
The juries out and my trials are done,
'cause it was you who held the smoking gun.
Now your wanted poster's all over town,
for the death of a poor unsuspecting clown.
Whose only crime was falling head over heels,
with a cold hearted, scheming woman who deals.
But now I'm much happier just chasing the sun,
and all you have is a smoking gun.
Copyright © John Jones | Year Posted 2020
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