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| Waterloo Bridge - by Monet |
Perhaps she tried Johnny
but she couldn’t love you.
Did you struggle when
your lungs began to burn
until oblivion came?
Maybe you called for help
but the Thames is such
a lonely place at three a.m.
You drifted on the water, grey
bloated and alone with murky
water in your glazed eyes.
No one can do dying Johnny
better than a man betrayed in love.
You are in a fridge cold and grey
now, with a number on your toe
and a scar along your chest.
It’s nearly four a.m.
The Half-Moon is about to
close and all your friends
are here to mourn you.
Speak to us Johnny, was
Veronica worth the price?
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