Missing
A lipstick stained Camel butt, on the full ashtray rim
A golden earring on the floor, how does this story begin?
The Smith Corona silent, paper stuck in the machine
When someone ripped it out they left a mess to clean
An air ticket on the floor, unused it would appear
What happened to the owner something’s wrong that is clear?
A telephone receiver burring on the desktop
No one put it down, the call they didn’t stop
A tissue on the floor, all shredded up and wet
A sign of great misery, a mystery still as yet.
A newspaper screwed up and thrown upon a chair
A missing child is found, she had better get out of there.
A body found, a Camel butt by her side
The car ran off the road, what a way to die
The madam of murder and mayhem will see daylight no more
And now the devil’s a waiting to open his fiery door.
A lady looking lost, approaches a child alone
She dangles one gold earring, with a pretty stone
This is for you child if, you but come with me
Another child is missing, didn’t anybody see?
One earring, one cigarette butt, but she didn’t work alone
Her partner in crime, a woman warned her on the phone.
Destroy the ransom note the child has now been found
The ticket is now no good, we must move underground.
For those unsure and there are some, Camel are a brand of cigarette.
©Mandy Tams
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