Staring up at her window,
Every night from the gutter ;
All the meals endured
Where I blushed, barely muttered
In answer to queries of work, health and station -
And her father dissected me
With his cutlery
From the inside out.
Only watched as she drifted
And all bets were off.
Due to some chinless wonder
I felt awful enough
That I knocked down her butler right into the mud
What a shame
That she saw me
and just shook her head.
Now I'm down in the mine
Pounding feeling to stone.
Till the axe twists and breaks
So I switch to my hands
But they're flesh;
Although callused,
they bleed.
So the coal dust blossoms:
But the blood bleeds the bitterness
Through the stone that I pound
Till I'm left with it split
And a diamond, winking like an eye
That I pawn to the smith
For thirty pieces of silver.
Which I blew all on beer
Down the other boozer to the
Stiff-necked stags
On their last night out:
Bastards.
The next day, hungover
I stand at the back
My stone winks from her hand
and the light as it shines-
(Pierces my head
So my eyes water, not cry
As he kisses the bride.)
