I used to visit all the very gay places,
those come what may places,
where one relaxes on the axis of the wheel of life,
to get the feel of life
from jazz and cocktails.
The girls I knew had sad and sullen gray faces,
with distant gay traces,
that used to be there you could see
where they'd been washed away by too many
through the day twelve o'clock tales.
Then you came along with your siren song to tempt me to madness.
I thought for a while that your poignant smile
was tinged with the sadness of a great love
for me.
Ah yes,
I was wrong.
Again I was wrong.
Life
is lonely again,
and only last year everything seemed so sure.
Now life
is awful again,
a truffle of hearts could only
be a bore.
A week
in Paris will ease the bite of it.
All I care is to smile in spite of it.
I'll forget you,
I will,
while yet you are still burning inside my brain.
Romance is mush,
stifling
those who strive.
I live
a lush life
in some small dive,
and there I'll be
while I rot with the rest
of those
whose lives are lonely too.