Pulp. Fictions
male vocals, film noir, smokey jazz, cool, atmospheric, but 80s smooth, keyboards, saxophone, spokenword, female vocals
Pulp. Fictions
male vocals, film noir, smokey jazz, cool, atmospheric, but 80s smooth, keyboards, saxophone, spokenword, female vocals
Lyrics
A Pulp and Noirish poem:
Pulp.
instrumental break
Degenerate Gambler
Down on his luck
Forgets the rules.
The Mobster suffers
No fools
instrumental break
The Maltese Falcon
Sheds light
In the black crow of night time horrors.
The femme fatale
Applies rouge to her already
Crimson lips.
Leading the patsy
To a path of
Red herrings and sharks
Bait.
Playing them.
Playing them all.
Agendas secreted in the shadows.
saxophone solo
Everything is a game of
Cloaks and daggers.
The theme followed by rapturous
Music of horns, double bass and drums.
Parallel lines of angular avenues
Lit by lamplight, casting fog laden shadows,
Like the steam of espresso.
The deal goes down
Dirty.
The only crimson now
Is that of those who
Gambled wrong.
instrumental break
Impeccably dressed, in Chalk striped flannel,
Fedora pulled down, hiding dark shadowed eyes which are reflected in the toecaps of polished derby shoes.
The protagonist puts away the tools
Of his trade.
Wrapping them in holsters of Chamois leather.
The rain falls telling its own story.
As puddles form reflecting
The bleak
End.
©Jason Disley 2016