Gun-totin', Chronic-smokin' Hearse Initiator (ludickid) wrote,
Gun-totin', Chronic-smokin' Hearse Initiator
ludickid

Gang aft a-gley

Sometimes things go wrong. Some people count on this.

In the meantime, another song noir.

***

He was seven horses strong
He was seven Scotches wrong
He came in the Archers and was spoilin' for a fight

He turned thirteen kinds of red
Wound up thirteen kinds of dead
We never knew who did it 'cause no one turned on the light

At least that's what we told the law
But it was them who told his ma
We treated it like justice but it's just an open grave
For Benny Midnight

We'd all seen him flash his knives
We all knew he'd fuck our wives
We all figured that to him our lives weren't worth a tinker's damn

We all knew he beat his kids
Waited 'til he hit the skids
Then it was all wham-bam, not a trace of thank you ma'am

Now no one claims they threw the blow
That laid him in the ground so low
We used to call him bastard but she used to call him Ben
That's Benny Midnight

And I never said I'm sorry 'cause I knew he's no damn good
I wouldn't take my punches back now even if I could
But where I see a worthless fucker laid out in the wood
She just sees an empty hole where once her husband stood

He gave us each a ton of shit
We paid him back for every bit
He'd no more make us suffer and that's worth a thousand tears

But I can't stand to see her cry
While we act like we don't know why
And she tears herself to pieces while we drink a thousand beers

So now I'll cover sin with sin
I did it once, I will again
Her suffering will end tonight as I will set things right
With Mrs. Midnight

***

Don't worry, I'll stop these before too long.
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