the chronicles of le rouge

i stood there hammering tenderloins
while she shoved a lager in his face
and merry men sang songs of mule coins
and silly rhymes of horrible tastes.

when she came, staggered and smiling,
i knew she needs a shoulder to cry.
she ordered chocolates and other things,
but i heard a heart waiting to die.

hey sally, your day is just half as bad as mine.
i'd tell you tales of sorrow but with a smile.
hey baby, don't fret because we are all not doing fine.
this world is a beautiful place, served with roses and bile.

and i gave her coffee on the house, waiting for some tips.
but she kept smiling and smiling amidst her bleeding lips.
with an empty hand, i coughed a story from two days ago,
about how i swam in sands, while i was having some blow.

her lips kept bleeding i thought i was rose syrup.
i knew she has to get a grip before i chased her out.
i don't need a tragic lady, to spoil my get up.
so i'm telling you once, you have to go out and about.

forget what happened already, just move on.
this life is just a cuppa with a little smooch.
it's time for you to hastily be gone,
so i can continue the chronicles of le rouge.


- the seventh chef of the angry salmon