He waited the sad ***** broken in what seemed like a fool who sits on the traintrack
Feeling the rail knowing full well what is coming cant be stopped yet still
they stand.

It didnt take a writers eye to read the reply I knew it from the moment the poor
sap got down on one knee.
Like was never ment for love as a torment was never ment to be cast in a ******* fairytales
happy ending.

I felt no need to listen further for like some old stage hand I knew the
actors lines by heart.
Why were sappy ******* always drawn to heartless ******* I could never understand.
I guess for the reason worthless ******* always seemed to get the one's that
were to dam nice used them like doormats and turned them into the flawed gems
we knew and adored as well.

Maybe if only his ears herd truth instead of dellusion he'd find a much easier path.
I never wait for a reply and seldom care to ask.
I deal in truth I play no game just show my cards and care less if im holding better than the next.
Games are for fool's and old farts who gather to swap war stories and yern for the days
when yesterday  was uncertin yet always a adventure.

She wouldnt reply with what he wanted and he would be the fool a clown
left behind by the circus  just a out of place reject  wearing oversized shoes.
Some belive in it some also know desperate acts only serve a vain person's ego.

It's better to be jaded in sight than a sap for a cruel ******* amusement.
But being a ******* I know her thoughts all to well.
And as the night does erase the light the curtains fall will just
promise another act apon life's stage.

Avoid the people who's hearts have been cast of stone.
Course if you choose to do so you'll probaly  not have to many friends.
Course I never did give a **** cause that just leaves more drinks for me.

He waited for her reply and as the words hit like a landslide.
He sat numb frozen in a sea  of embaressment.
And in the aftermath of rejection he sat at the bar  running it through his thoughts.
I poured a triple sat it in front of the man along with a bottle for company.

And as always became deaf to the bleeding hearts conversation.
Thank God for closing time.

Im the stage hand of lifes over written play a bartender who's herd every version of the
same old song.
If you have to wait never yern for the reply.


Stay crazy Gonzo