he shot a hobo
alas a hobo
my lover shot a hobo
it was love , so love
i was the most insane stripper
lost on a winters eve
he was a bookkeeper with a gun
we wanted to run together
passion and breast in flames
he tried so much to please
with bunched up bloody nose
another fight over me
he started to kill
for pleasure that winters eve
police would call
and i would deny
through a packards windshield
his face a policeman saw
once run down
no going back
mexico and jazz
we where on the run
but my passion waned
with his bloodstained hands
and made a call
to a deputy
our villa surrounded
he felt betrayed
as to the chair
he fried
my lover alas my lover
who shot a hobo
and broke my heart
dVersePoets
velvetmedia 