It was a normal day- I went for a coffee at the Jazz Café.
And out through the soaked windows I saw a malign, wanton city Vehicles perishing the streets Pouring their sooty fumes into the Gaping mouth of the crowds.
I took a sip of the cappuccino- The sweet bitterness; Casted me back to those long Winter months (wasted) - I spent mourning about you.
I would shroud my room in black Drink, drink, drink until- All hues of blue Would drown me in the Ocean of Woe.
Then Chet Baker mellowed the room: 'Some blues are sad, but some are glad, dark and sad.'
I felt as if I was suffocating. There was something eerie about that jazz.
So I walked out- of the light. Let the rain rinse my sins, dance Like a flapper: complacent, rebellious, dangerous,
puff away my eclipsed universe. My blues were more than a cold colour:
'They're a moan of pain, a taste of strife and a sad refrain.'