Trashcan Sinatras Obscurity Knocks
Always at the foot of the photograph that s me there Snug as a thug in a mugshot pose, a foulmouthed rogue Owner of this corner and not much more Still these days i m better placed to get my just rewards I ll pound out a tune and very soon I ll have too much to say and a dead stupid name Though I ought to be learning I feel like a veteran Of oh I like your poetry but I hate your poems Calendars crumble I m knee deep in numbers I ve turned 21, I ve twist, I m bust and wrong again Rubbing shoulders with the sheets till two Looking at my watch and I m halfpast caring In the lap of luxury it comes to mind Is this headboard hard am I a lap behind But to face doom in a sockstenched room all by myself Is the kind of fate I never contemplate Lots of people would cry though none spring to mind Though I ought to be learning I feel like a veteran Of oh I like your poetry but I hate your poems Calendars crumble I m knee deep in numbers I ve turned 21, I ve twist, I m bust and wrong again Know what it s lik
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