It doesn’t matter if your black or white
You wont be able to win the fight
Just ask Snowy White
He got his legs caught in the string of the kite
Forgot to hold on tight
Gary Moore
Was so sure
Of the never ending tour
The mythical war
A massacre for an encore
All sparks burn out in the end
The desire to push the bends
Often offends
Why can’t they comprehend?
They say you’re on the mend
From bucking the trend
Return to sender
Go on another bender
Snap the strings of that fender
Twin guitars in a blender
You forgot to turn it off
Fuck the toffs
With their collection of moths
Support the up and coming Goths
The Grand Slam was a blue man’s cough
Phyllis was never off
Look what the wind just blew in
More cures from the bin
Insecurity is a sin
You’re looking Thin
My name’s Phil
And I’m deaf in one pill
Just chill
Chris’ll pay the bills
Got this song for a steal
Someone’ll put it in the till
To get their fill
Attach it to mass appeal
And a bucket of zeal
End result nil
I don’t wear rose tinted specs
He enjoyed his sex
Never lived to see text
Would’ve invented that next
To prove he was the best
Dance and rock was the test
Got that off his chest
But not the phlegm
This man is condemned
The family should be ashamed
Get the cane
Now he just soaks up the rain
No more injecting his vain
His mother’s continual pain
Will never cease to change
Long live the name
The lord of the game
Associated with fame
Lynott is dead
The king of sound is dead
Lynott is dead
Copyright (c) Perry Barnes 2009 All Rights Reserved in All Media
Perry Barnes
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/black-rose-6/
