ST.CHISTOPHER BLUES
Visions of Saints rowing home in the sand
The placid wind screen
Six trumpets in the band
Your skin so soft lift the petals of your silk
All over your lips the taste of malted milk
The stars are burning bright
The autumn leaves are brown
The night forever hangs
I’m listening for the sound
Hustling with a woman in the alley on the ground
Shuffling to the rhythm on the dirty side of town.
I live the free life the American way
Smoke in bars on sacred holidays
Get drunk on the weekend and leave my car and walk home
Wander sleazy highways and I walk ‘em alone
I hang out in diners in Motel 6
A junkie for a bar whore make a quick fix
She smells like cigarettes and alcohol
Crawl like a sapphire dog ‘til I’m ten feet tall.
Hanging out in the pool hall hustle a few drinks
I’m high and I’m tired push indulgence to the brink
I’m Marti Eden” a poet with the blues
Getting off on desolation , religious solitude
I see every sin clear on the internet line
Someone knows your whole life
Someone else knows mine
I gotta dance honey to that September beat
Sweet sensation nipping at the heels of my feet.
There’s a river on the highway
The cheats are rowing home
On the raft of false promise sittin’ on a throne
I hear the magnolia bloom
Violent winds attack
Someone stole my sainthood
And now I want it back.
I know how he must’ve felt
St. Christopher
Tarnished as a saint
Left only with revenge.WRITTEN BY MICHAEL UBALDINI
COPYRIGHT 'LIBRARY OF CONGRESS
- FROM THE BOOK - Michael Ubaldini-'LOST AMERICAN NIGHTS-Lyrics& Poems - Moon tide press
