Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Ramona Black

In a dark and smoky bar

that I've come to call my home,

I spoke with some men

just the other night

They wanted to talk,

so I balanced my tray

and let them entertain me

with what they had to say

They kept calling me back,

and I wanted to stay,

'cause they spoke with a warmness

that softened the place

Two genuine smiles

tattooed 'cross their faces,

but one had a story

of sorrow to tell...

Burt Reynolds and beer,

clink-clank went the done;

and for all he was sane,

he loved singin' her name

He called her Ramona,

and his constinants rolled

like honey-thick romance

off his liquor-wet tongue

He called her Ramona--

his only true love.

And the bar filled with smoke,

in a dreamy fog haze,

and we spoke of the dawn

as the night carried on

Screw all that is sane,

he loved singin' her name;

Ramona, Ramona

'til the morning was young.


Tomato, Tomatta;

Ramona, Romana.

sing us a song, you're the piano man.

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