The big easy

The morning of the night before wake up embraced to a New Orleans whores
Lost in thoughts of personal wars
I was filling the chilled sore.
Black shades cover my blind eyes to reflect the stars and stripes sun from my sight.
In my throat the bitter taste of many lives
I am felling alive thanks to the hearth beats of lies
Empty pockets are not of good use
Because of cash I like to abuse down the bars listening fried chicken blues.
The empty stalls are my pals I pay for drinks sharing pagan prayers with the bartender Sal
Here it goes the same sad fairy tale
“Once upon in time my wife Estelle....”
I am staring an empty glass with no answers.
Silently I sat and stay
Wonder what to him say I need too relive my pains.
But I run out of time, the electric neon have ready broken the dark alleys outside.
Mardi Grass ‘juries have deliver their final blow
Bourbon Street is in full glow.
On the road I am again with playful shadows friendly help to deny my guilt.
Past ghosts utter wonders pledging for their needs
I have lost the entire sense of my deeds
How it can be that just after midnight
I am me.