(DiffordTilbrook)



The head of a hunt on the wall by a painting

An upright piano stood locked by the door

In through the window

The light was fast fading

While I spilt my whiskey

All over the floor

Making a mess of my words so

I was trying

To impress the Empress with

My wimpy tales

Fanning her face from cigar smoke

And sighing

I had come close to be miles

From her trail



She was the jewel that

Sparkled in darkness

She was the love

Of everyone's life

She was the catch at

Everyone's parties

She was the one with a tongue

Like a knife



Her bosoms curved perfectly

Lit by the fire

My mind launched away

In a sea of its own

Her grace and her tightness

I had to admire

Through a whore's breath of stories

I happily told



Trespassing my hand

Fell into hot water

She shot like a bullet

Right out of her chair

She led me away and I

Was then slaughtered

By the warmth of her body

And her love and care



Her tongue cut away

And the wounds slowly opened

I lay on the sails of the

Ship of romance

Drunk as I could be and

Broker than broken and

The head of my hunt

Was there in my hands