by John Kendall Hawkins
.
Well it's almost dark
I guess you'll be coming in
'Round Midnight playing its mystery
its urban blight, things gone to seed
the urbane white, drum roll in need
of the reedy silence that soothes
call it the closed eyes blues
c'mon, baby, lie down next to me
tell me the news, tell me the news
tell me the news
.
(Note: You can view every article as one long page if you sign up as an Advocate Member, or higher).