Byron The Dawn Of A Drunk Bum
the autumn is leaving
the cold streets are screaming
the bells of an ancient tower are fading out in the night
the beauty of darkness
the howl of a cypress
those empty bottles umber the eyes
falling
the memories curl and grow
deep down inside
crawling
the rocks are dead and cold
don't have the time to say goodbye
the dawn of a drunk bum
bullfighting loomed with rum
the scorned eyes of a stranger saying "how can you live?"
a comb and a toothbrush
a clean suit, a little rush
a cab is waiting outside to drive the lawyer to the court
