Coma Lies The Beggar
My fingertips are frozen to the bone, I think this is the last winter that I
will ever see with these old eyes.
With these old dead eyes.
I am your foul example of a wretched life spewing forth desperation
thereÕs not a chance of redemption or a hope to clutch.
I will beg.
I sit at your feet looking up at you with despair strewn across my face.
You return the stare, not with one of pity but with one of disgust.
I was once like you in your hand tailored suits.
The whole world was once at my feet and now I live at yours, oh how the
mighty fall, I wish I brought you with me.
Oh I remember the times, doused with such expensive red wines and that
scent of sultry perfume of every woman in the room.
They all begged for my attention.
I used to own this town, but now this town owns me.
I live at your feet, I once lived up in the sky.
I had it all, power, money, women, pride.
My fortune lost, stripped back to my foundation. Abandoned by all who
once stood by my side.
As Death closes in on me I look back on my life with shame. I start to fade
into the streets, no-one will remember my name.
"Desperation", a word I have never known.
Dependence on certain substances, coupled with a guilty, broken mind is
the reason I no longer exist in the eyes of an unforgiving, uncaring
society.
Those long nights we spent, smoking imported cigars as we laughed at
the stars...
