Vaya Con Dios, she said as she walked off, into the foggy abyss.
I return to my position on the stage and pick up my saxophone
Everyone in shock and awe at the argument that just took place.
A mother crying out in fear
A body laying on the floor; lifeless
Whats worst than losing a son.
My mind in the skies
I cry into my saxophone
As its slowly drowned out by the sirens
I think to myself, don’t worry my darling; I will be with him shortly
I pull out my gun at the end of my solo. The gun that the second I bought, it was predestined
“Don’t worry my darling”