Voses are Red and Riolets are blue...

Freight trains were making love nearby.
It shattered the night like glass.
I was drinking one
for every ghost from my past.

The shadows were dancing high
in their beds of neon,
their rainbow coffins all aglitter
until the cruel morning sun.

Where was I on Valentines day
but in the bosom of a stripper.
"Sorry I don't have cash for a dance
I spent my money on the liquor."

But I wrote a sonnet to you.
It's on the bathroom wall.
And I could still smell your perfume
despite the vomit in the stall.

The girls gave their tired pitch,
tried to get me in the mood.
They'd be wearing sandwich board signs
if they weren't completely nude.

Where was I on Valentine's day?
"I don't know, where were you?"
"Just answer the question." you say.
I say "I'd tell you if I knew."

When I drink you get mad,
Call me a weakling and a coward.
Well I was just taking refuge between the tits
of the lady for the hour.

I wish I could be a better man,
something like a saint or a scholar.
I wish mothers would make sure I was fed
and fathers would trust me with their daughter.

I'm so sick of whiskey talk,
forked tongues, and fake breasts.
You deserve much more than me,
and I deserve far less.

To show I was sorry
I brought you wine and a rose.
"I'd forgive you," you said
"If your gifts weren't as red as your nose."

"Now, where were you on Valentine's day?"
I say "Wishing to be with you."
"You swine, you dog, you horrible man,
you know that isn't true!"