He had a confident anxiety,
and a stage name.
Who the hell has a stage name anymore?
He ****** down cigarettes like he was
trying to eat their insides. Violently.
Swore he was a fighter.
Feint at the sight of blood.
I knew the last king of jazz, yeah,
he drank whiskey and sang out of key.
Stole his act from Tom Waits,
like any respectable artist does,
you'll come to find.
He was a big man, literally, intimidating in size
if he wasn't so **** funny. Not goofy, just funny.
Southern man, migrated north.
The south of the north; Buffalo.
Most depressing city in the world,
but you learn something from a guy like that
in a city by Buffalo.
How to survive, maybe,
or how to keep it together long enough.
Long enough for what?
