swinging doors (short version)

nobody ever walked through those swinging doors not even billy the kid in his sunday best or jack the ripper in his carpet slippers or jesse james with his brain in flames who wouldn't play abe lincoln's games or general grant with his railroad track who shot poor jesse in the back or bob ford with his flaming sword riding to chicago in the dining car with a glass of port and a cuban cigar or robert e lee with his cup of tea who paid the bill for poor quantrill or queen victoria with her daffodil asking andrew carnegie to please sit still or cora peal in her negligee teaching edward vii the truth and the way or nellie bly with her apple pie or j p morgan with his cloudless sky or john d rockefeller with his shiny dime making sure the trains always ran on time look out the window of the smoking car no mongol hordes ever rode so far as wyatt earp in his checkered vest as he blew a hole in billy's chest

tomorrow is always midnight

webs of passion never go out of fashion webs of betrayal never grow stale webs of fear will always be here and a web of suspense never relents a deadly dame always wins the game and a chump who is spurned never learns a guy named bob has to take on one last job as a boss named mister cass pours some whiskey in his glass and his flunky, albany red laughs at whatever he said bob is in for it now he had no chance anyhow his dreams of being a regular guy are headed for the sweet bye and bye he heads back to his lonely room under a cloud of doom hardly knowing what to think he stops in for a drink he knows it's getting late he better keep his head on straight he will have just one and when it is done why not two? what's a guy supposed to do when it's too late and he's being swallowed by fate he is down to his last dime and it's closing time just as well because he has to answer the bell tomorrow morning at nine rise and shine meet two guys named slim and pete down on desolation street they have what he will need to do the deed suddenly everything's a blur and he thinks - of her the cause of all his woe and pain will he ever see her again? just make it out the door don't think about her any more too bad, bob, too bad the only chance you ever had go home and get some sleep you are in too deep nothing left but to take a stand and play the hand

a ballad

in the merry month of may my true love broke my heart i vowed eternal vengeance but knew not where to start i went to see the gypsy her counsel for to seek but when she heard my tale of woe even the gypsy could not speak i went to see the serpent in her cage inside the zoo and she commiserated but could not tell me what to do i went to see the wind and waves that beat upon the shore and they sighed but had no solace for the sorrow that i bore in an alley by the docks i found a pawnshop dimly lit and i bought a .357 to my hand a perfect fit in the fog i flagged a passing cab and directed it uptown as i chatted with the driver my face it bore no frown i felt a peace within me as the cab approached the gate of the brightly lit up mansion where my love would meet her fate i looked up at her window as the rain beat on my face and all the hate within me disappeared without a trace a guard approached and asked me what business i had there i turned away without reply indifferent to his stare the house, the lights, the wind, the rain like an iridescent dream all vanished in an instant as if they had never been i walked along a river bank and heard the tolling of a bell never to think of her again until we meet in hell