Tom Waits’ bleeding knuckles
painting the piano keys,
Keith Richard slits a finger
soloing over the Devil’s symphony,
Bukowski stands at the mic
calling everyone up to fight,
the MC dressed in leather
promises one hell of a night
on drums Keith Moon is vomiting
while John Bonham waits his turn,
through trumpet Miles is jonesing
waiting for his shit to burn.
demon Beasts of Bourbon
piss elixir into your throat,
the barman spews intoxicant venom
through the wicked teeth of a goat,
The bar room’s fucked up crowded,
the bar maids are filthy mean,
but give me a smokin’ dirt house
to any sterile ku klux clean.
