The streets are silent.
A spokesman of the devil waves a hand written letter.
Another twist of fate.
Shadow by the lamp post,
a trench coat in the corner of the eye.
Confessions far too late.

When the shoulder you cried on collapsed under weight,
did you walk away indifferent?
Hearts and spades know the diamond cannot be replaced
by the clover's insignificance.

My song is silent.
The letter shed new light upon the answers never questioned,
your absences of late.
I left the room as the fires raged,
erasing words in the fireplace.
The streets provide more shelter
when a sacrifice is made.

When the shoulder you cried on collapsed under weight,
did you walk away indifferent?
Hearts and spades know the diamond cannot be replaced
by the clover's insignificance.