Born in the roaring twenties
Grown up a beatnick
keeping me self warm
with hard-boiled novels
while fed by the magpies in a hovel
A femme fatale she was
who sharpened her stiletto heel
on scavenged jawbones and ribcages
then I met you in the city of angels
Yes, in the city of angels I met you
inside a bar with a jukebox
that was playing a perish song
you stared at me among the scaundrel-looking folk
so you came and put a wing on me
then bought me a chalk-stripe suit
you told me you came along with the breeze
you told me you came to absolve me
am I a just another hepcat
another hopeless ghetto rebel
with a pulp of criminal morality
getting by felony after felony
anyway, I couldn't think of anything
as perdition-worthy
as your aura smokin’ a cig, your neon halo flickerin'
oh man, everything she gazes at takes noir shades
I walk down the streets of your monochrome ego
frenzy-looking for atonement, an excuse to cry bingo!
a renegade star was my gift for Confirmation
it didn’t grant me nothing but damnation
Make of me your sentimentally-hired killer
let me surf on your dark blood lagoon
the pages of my banned books are burning
in the Cadillac of all mental squandering
In the city of angels I met you
we were baptised in ink, as you wished
And I thought I could ascend with right words
by your divine grace, your dos and donts
but I never managed to
so send me to Jesus now, say the right words
put a second wing on me, no big deal
and call yourself done
If you're reading this letter from the jail
tomorrow I’ll be sitting on the electric chair
I gave myself up, I made no resistance
to save your neck with some elegance
it’s my last romantic act
my well-deserved beatitude
