Death From a Dame

The Car

Shudders as I force the brake down towards the floor
I pull into a parking spot, almost too small to dock
My hands stick to the steering wheel
Sweat clings to me like a lounge singer's dress.
I drag the key out of the ignition and light a cigarette.
The smoke burns my eyes, and the car smells like desperation
I open the door and slide out onto

The Street

I swear it has a life of its own, always breathing, heaving, cracking
Cars line each side, forced together like a makeshift puzzle
I take a deep breath and the smell of life hits me square in the face
The embers of a smoky death glow on my lips as I start to walk
I run halfway across when impatience honks and gives me the finger.
My shoes stick with each step, in this humidity even the pavement sweats
I push through a doorway and feel

The Music

The kind that punches into your chest,
And rattles your heart like your first breakup.   
The lust is so thick I can almost see the notes fighting through the air
I follow the sweet sound of a siren past crowded wooden tables,
Apologize to a waitress who can't feel a single beat beyond the hopeless eyes
I push my way forward, front and centre
And gaze up into the beautiful eyes of

The Dame

The world stops, the music stops, I grow cold and hot all at once
Her smile, her touch, her hips,
A damnation for a dammed fool
She drops the mic and cascades into my arms
Her tongue tastes like cherry pie with whipped cream on top
Her love tastes even better
I pick her up and turn to see

The Man

Even the blind can see that he's not quite human
The one that runs it all, the beating heart without one
A pistol in one hand a scotch in the other
I swear he smiles as he takes a sip, but the scars make it hard to tell.
He knew I'd be back, he had to,
Look at her
I reach into my jacket and hear

The Shot

The alarms go off but I can't move
I can smell the burning flesh, feel the chill spreading
I grab her hand and kiss it, the gun powder smells so strong
The waver, the stumble, the bullet must have went deep
The screams grow silent as the final moments race forward
The first drop of blood hits the floor, just before his face.
She pulls my hand and we make

The Getaway