From the recording QUIET IN THE COURTROOM
I didn’t know that she was leaving;
I didn’t know till she was gone.
I didn’t know that I’d be grieving.
How could I have been so wrong?
They say, “Easy come and easy go,”
Like love must be a dollar bill.
Well, I don’t buy their talk for show.
Never have, and never will.
I guess she never got my letter,
My text, my email, or my calls.
She’s acting like I never met her,
Like Amontillado walls.
These iron chains are cold and rusting;
The flambeau’s flame is almost out.
I don’t know why I was so trusting.
It’s all over but the shout.
I’m hanging on to one last shadow,
But I know there’s no relief.
I’m no Count of Monte Cristo,
And this is no Chateau d’If.
No one is listening – no one hears,
As my last lonesome moan falls
Upon the cold and stone deaf ears
Of these Amontillado walls.
Copyright © 2014 Lex Zaleta