My life a novel tale of sorrow days.

A solitary cigarette flame to life,

Awaiting the end of this profound malaise.

 

With emerald visions of perfect ways,

A fiend searches for a rusty knife,

My life a novel tale of sorrow days.

 

So, surrounded by books in which to daze,

An escape planned, as I fear the strife,

Awaiting the end of this profound malaise.

 

In torn velvet robes to the skies I gaze,

My executioner plays an old fife,

My life a novel tale of sorrow days.

 

A mistake, an err! So let me rephrase,

The crescendo signals the afterlife,

Awaiting the end of this profound malaise.

 

A train forthcoming with lengthy delays,

A trail of dust accompanies my ways,

My life a novel tale of sorrow days.

Awaiting the end of this profound malaise.

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