The Cryin Clown

There's a well traveled "Broken Heart Lane" On the outskirts of my hometown People come from miles around Sharing misery from love in vain A honkytonk where sad songs flow Underneath a flashing neon sign Where libations and music combine To be a pied piper for lonely souls From the first time I walked in Found an empty booth at the back My love train had jumped the track Those sad songs were not my friends I'd sit by that whiskey river That ran from the sea of love They'd always give me a shove When their message was delivered It was called "The Cryin Clown Performances were always live You could slow dance with brokenhearted wives Until the river pulled you down One day I finally moved away Broke loose from my pillory That old clown would call to me Every time those sad songs played I may be love's circus clown I know where I won't be found In a river where whiskey drowns Neath the sign of the Cryin Clown an original poem by the "Poemdog" Daniel Turner Pillory - wooden framework with holes for the head and hands where the offender was exposed to public abuse