A Foreign Guitarplayer

Cold memories from the future
a noir filled with anger and deliverance
pitiful foul god of revenge
I pay for crimes of a past life
or perhaps a future death

"Break the circle
everyone wants to play
everyone's gotta play
everyone needs my sensitive guitar"
the beggar screamed with his drunken voice

Petrified listeners
asking a cigar
throwing dimes just for fun
"Food, a drink, god I need a drink
god opposes those who hate themselves
I know it is fit
I know it fits
My body fits in your grave"

Beggar of the ancient times
Celtic poems written in the dark
cold staring eyes, black haze
dawn will come to find you frozen
lying down under the bench

Same old song
"This song, is for you"
he said to the young boy
A tear escaped my eye prison