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lesestoff > gold on the pavement

ghostwriter

tell me where did you get the hair                                                             
for that mustache
it doesn't suit you
but it reminds me of a sequel
that was on TV
when my father was still beating me

tell me how did you find my door
there was no name on the bell
for the second floor
it's not like I expected you
but your dog looks nice
so that's alright

you look like you
used to sleep with your ear on the wall
of your heart for the last year or two
take   my   word    I know
the letters that you keep in your shoe

you want my answer
the question is silly
I'm the waitress not the cook
you ask for reason
but rhyme is poor
when there's tears in the envelope

and the sound that you make with your voice
like chalk on a board or your fingernails
I hear your steps on my stairs
and the sprinklers go on in my head

sad sad man would you bow for applause ?

did you come here for attention
I'm asking you
to close the door as you leave
I heard your steps
and the sprinklers went on in my head
to prevent me from coughing too hard
leave no trace as you go
cause I'm not interested in a time-thief

can't you see
I am busy tiping letters
to a best friends ex-husband
I get paid pretty well for the skills of a cheating penpal
I write ridiculous sentences
full of blossom  full of giantific elfin alphabet
the word are rather shakespearian
though my thoughts are satirical

sad sad man  do you pay for the applause ?

tell me what's that heart on your key-ring
whatdoes it mean?

I have longtime outsourced my desire
told it to shove off into the woods
what you pay for is simply the plan
to interfere with the plan of the old man
keeping me old, lost and lonesome

in my pack there's a sack full of goldnuggets
and they'll find it  when I am dead
tell the pope I have no hope for his  soul
if he's brave he'll escape -
swim with the tide
in the early morning

as  I look down on my ice-cold little hand
on the lap of the top of my typewriter
I think, O.K.
I'm the ghostwriter

 
 
 
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