There’s a painting on my wall,
of a ragged man alone,
He plays the guitar for all,
while he’s sitting upon stone.
I have met this man before,
living in the freezing street.
May not meet him anymore.
He has neither food nor heat.
There’s a painting on my wall.
of a man I might have known.
It might not have been at all,
If compassion had been shown.
Danger we want social rights,
And our protests will not cease.
We will fight all through the nights.
We have passed the time for peace!
Get the cocktails ready boys,
We want to give them a show.
Careful, don't make any noise.
Throw it there; through that window.
Not in there you fucking ass.
There might be somebody in.
In the car! Step on the gas!
God, I need a fucking gin.
Our top story of the day,
Fire kills family last night.
Police suspect foul play,
Witness claims no one in sight.
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2 comments:
I don't have words to describe how amazing this was.
It was your usually kind of grinding grounded-in-life humour with a kind of humorously fantastical writing, except with something extra. I think it's the narrator, he seems so sympathetic, so hilarious and ridiculous, and yet he seems to take himelf so seriously... and then the irony at the end, that something horrible did happen, and yet it's taken so lightly. I really like this.
Oh, and kudos for making everything in alternating rhymes and scan properly. Few people would have that patience and dedication.
Anyway, well done! You made my day!
Omgosh I wasn't expecting that end! I was all happy with the typical-Francis-whimsy in the beginning, and then it got so dark and there was swearing! But it worked, oddly enough :P Very cool
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