THE CLASSIC FOOL


I sit within this darkened room,

This room that has become my tomb.

Remembering all those past transgressions

And all those phoney false confessions.

But now I really am contrite,

I’m soon to face the final night.

Where I sit in the dock once more,

As angels tally up the score.

And maybe open heavens door.

Many chances came and went

To me they were just chances spent,

In dreaming days,

In the whispering haze

 Of the classic fool.

And I thought I was being so cool.

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