This City's Chorus
I opened up the window,
the street noise came crashing in.
Pushing sadness in the hole
where my heart once should have been.
I see the crumpled bed sheets,
where the two of us would lie.
It’s hard to see what happened,
through these tears filling my eyes.
It feels like a hundred years,
though it’s just been a few days.
You walked out that slamming door,
and left me here in this haze.
I can’t eat and I can’t sleep,
it’s too hard to even think.
But I’ve become an expert,
on how much a man can drink.
I’ve had gin, I’ve had whiskey,
had champagne and rot-gut wine.
Vodka, scotch, rum, and bourbon,
brandy and beer in a stein.
Jim Beam and Seagram’s Seven,
two Buck Chuck and Boone’s Farm wine.
Had me thinking of the end,
came close to crossing that line.
They say time will heal all wounds,
and that I would soon forget.
If I was a gambling man,
I still would not take that bet.
This city’s lonesome rhythm,
has me tied up in a noose.
You coming back here to me,
is the knife to cut me loose.
Neon signs choke out the moon,
all those bright lights blind the stars.
The streets are filled with the songs,
of lost souls and unhealed scars.
Since you walked away from me
and tore my whole world apart.
Add one more sound to that tune,
the beat of my broken heart.
Copyright ©
Jerry Brotherton
|