Confessions hidden in the rhythm and the rhyme
Its not poetry but a lowly cowards crime
Fallen completely and blamming madness
Fearing the love more than fearing sadness
Using dime store story clichés
Red shoes waiting
Rain and overpriced umbrellas
Romeo bleeding
Pretending nothings wrong
He can't say it out loud
So he just quotes an old song
So when she puts it all together
He can claim he
Was just singing along
Checking the airfare
To her far away town
At 2:32 am
Restless and sleepless
But still dreaming along
Falling and singing
And dancing
With that madness
Knowing his hearts
Gonna break
He's just the kinda guy
Who always makes
Mistakes
Waiting too long
Or saying too much
Too soon
Or never saying
Anything at all
Because he
Likes crying in the rain
Out there in the dark
Where no one
Can hear him
Or tell the rain
From the tears
A cowardly way to die
Letting all that love
Burn alone
In the middle
And bottom of his soul
His heart beating its wings
In his chest
But the noose is wrapped
Tight around his ribs
As well as his neck
A fully loaded gun
Playing Russian Roulette
Bang
Dead on the floor
While every one is watching
Cagney on the screen
Swaying to the rhythm and the rhyme
Fitted for his straight jacket
Strapping the madness in tight
Hoping it while ****** his heart
Somewhere in the night
He's just the kinda guy
Who always makes
Mistakes
No way out
Just a prisoner
Writing bad poetry
On his cell walls
Written up his confession
But refuses
To sign the dotted line