" Please, Highest-Ranking Lord of Lords we do beg of You, don't You shove
our beloved opera singer into the cold, cold ground, ****** "....


...And, the ancient, blue moon that mystically lives high above the bar is slightly less intoxicated
than ourselves, but, we will not turn off the lights,
until it gets light again, or maybe not at all,
because such an artificial light
in our o, so befuddled eyes has something
quite beautiful about it we think,
especially if you are close friends who're a bit totally drunk
as an almost comic or- believe it or not-  a completely absurd duo of displaced persons like you and I,
or as a collection of very old, dusty barrel organs even,
that turn out to be way more toneless than
the almost dead opera singer at the end of the bar,
who was so called apprenticed to none other than
the great Caruso himself, although we still do realize that an unrealistic amount of vile lies can be sown everywhere in this country
(even by us, drinkers)


And, coincidence or not, the music
in our favorite local bar comes out of
an old scratchy vinyl record by the very same Caruso,
as it would drive out any culture barbarian,
just like we ourselves are eager to chase out
all of those witnesses of Jeovah with a big broom whenever they show up at our front doors,
although, we may be dumb
but not barbarians of culture, because listen,
that Caruso, well, that man, he does de facto sing better than a caged nightingale, when you hear him spread
his colorful wings in every note, in all those well- formed octaves,
in every masterfully perfomed song even,
although, his opera art can sometimes make us
so sleep drunk and that might be a nice feeling at times, but, it is at the same time one of those cliches
that you shouldn't try at home, kids!


Leave that to mature lordships like ourselves,
whom you tend to call scornfully, old men,
and, meanwhile please, let us have our love for music, and, if you would be so good, don't make
those painful jokes about our heartfelt weakness
for good old opera tunes...

Yes, we are the ones who truly do believe Caruso
was here....and if you don't believe this true story
then, come back tomorrow same time
when we'll be a little sober again
as well as ready to tell you a next white lie
as that's at least what you disrespectful people
from Mars think about it,
but, I say, just you read our drunken lips :


"******, to hell, because you are all a bunch
of ******* liars", as our beloved Caruso
is still alive ( and, we just bought him
a very special Italian beer) after which he probably will start singing vividly
as a classy and uttermost captivating nightingale......because the alleged, so called apprentice of the Master in our local bar
turned out to be none other than
the divine (Grand)Master Caruso himself...



- Salute!     Cheers !