The Greasepaint Saint
By birksy
The greasepaint saint, sits with lights above his head, can't understand where the audience went, just cries in hands that have seen better days, in suits that have seen better hearts, he cries into air, now just full of dust, he draws in breath, but only just. He's a greasepaint saint if I ever saw one, maybe best there ever was, but he won't accept an award in this type of game, rewards are never real. Greasepaint saint's a lonely guy, and that is why I sit right next to him. Written March 1st, 2002 © on Mar 02 2002 12:08 AM PST, Simon Birks 0 • 1
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"The greasepaint saint,..."