Heads and Tails

On every Thursday night
Right after the theater closes
When the birds stop singing
And the bells stop ringing
And the eyes are numb,
Like a faith undone;
The good ol’ Arnie Turner,
With his banjo’s rambling strings
And while sitting on a bench with no wings,
He chanted up an immigrant song.

Some passed by
And some stood still for a while.
On dreary nights;
In jolly darkness,
No matter what the mood may be,
Good ol’ Arnie Turner
Always had two cents for me.

When the Big Ben rang eleven times
And Arnie strum his last few chords
When just about no one could see them,
Mary and Raymond would pass by.

A lovely couple they were, Mary and Raymond.
The sweetest one, I dare to say
And every other pairing’s envy
Was just about needles to be said.

He was a lawyer,
One of the few honest, I may add.
Always proud and full of honor
A true man to his duty, and to his wife.

She was the neatest “Mädchen”
A treasure to sight, in deed.
For no girl felt no jealousy
Of all men making her their creed.

They were the kindling soul of London
Their passion, as fierce as a lion.
It was almost fantastic, unreal
For a world as cruel as this.

But only the walls had heard
And only the hills had seen,
That a love of such
Was only meant for dreams.

No one could know the dangers
Of the couple’s plot at home.
No one would ever dare to believe
That something might just be wrong.

We only see one side of the coin
We see only half a truth
We only hide one side of the coin
We hide only half a lie

It is impossible to be always merry,
Always jolly, it can’t be.
For the sun only rises in the morning
Knowing that darkness shall end the day.

Raymond came home from a hard day’s work
Wanting no more that some supper and rest.
But, when he opened the door and came in,
He did not find Mary there, nor any food or bed.

He ran outside to find her,
He was getting desperate now.
His head was drowning swiftly
In an ocean of cold sweat.

-Mary! - He heard,
From a voice not known to him
He followed the cry through a ragged old path
Into an ally in which no men
Should ever leave out intact,
Only to find his woman
In the arms of another man.

He didn’t think, or at least that’s what I heard.
He drew out his gun,
Cocked it faster than any skilled marksman could,
His anger made all light there fade
And only the frigid silence was to be heard

BANG, BANG, BANG!
The echo roared through the godless streets.
The blood rolled through the city’s gates,
Killing the smile that belonged to faith
And staining the joy that was once unbetrayed.

No one knows what happened
And the good ol’ moon is scared to say.
I only know that from that day on,
A life was ended in the most tragic way.

For every Thursday night,
After the theater closes,
Good ol’ Arnie Turner
Only has one cent for me.