Desperation’s Lay

This room smells of old musk,
the velvet couch is coated in dust —
there you are, my love, with your red regrets
and I’m reading Desperation’s Lay.

Where’s that feather hat or the black dress
you wore indoors? What happened to my
Corduroys? — was it you, with your red regrets,
or was it me, readin’ off of  Desperation’s Lay?

I’m thinking ‘let’s lay off that champagne, babe’
make some time for us, there won’t be any shame,
but honey I can’t stop wonderin’ why I feel so alone
and this has to be my fault, readin’ off Desperations Lay!

You left me in the gutter, babe, too drunk to make sense
of the sounds or sights; now I’m sitting here playing my guitar
to an audience of the deaf and all that they can see and say is:
“Lordy he’s had it rough, readin’ off Desperation’s Lay!”

This room smells of old musk,
the velvet couch is coated in dust —
there you are, my love, with your red regrets
and I’m reading Desperation’s Lay.

Where’s that feather hat or the black dress
you wore indoors? What happened to my
Corduroys? — was it you, with your red regrets,
or was it me, readin’ off of  Desperation’s Lay?

Was it you, with your red regrets,
or was it me, readin’ off of  Desperation’s Lay?

 

COPYRIGHT 2011 Tyler J. Noyes

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