To the Tune of Tom Waits’ ‘Pasties and a G-String’

To the Tune of Tom Waits’ ‘Pasties and a G-String’

 

Staring at a brick wall

              looking through the sun,

my eyes are half-wired open

              and the day has just begun.

 

Knocking on the bleachers

              making sure my throat is clear,

sing a song of cigarettes

              as the midday sun draws near.

 

Throw a fish to Shiva

              watch it flapping cold,

twist my neck much further

              now the day is getting old.

 

Walking on a tightrope

              swinging from a tree,

my eyes are now wide open

              which is why I cannot see.

 

Gently light the candle

              watch its wax wane slow,

drown my head in slumber

              shifting to and fro.