zephyr
The guilty undertaker sighs
The lonesome organ grinder cries
The lonesome organ grinder cries
Well, never let it be said you don't know when to butt out of a touchy conversation piece. You don't push on the tangled lovelife of Sunjata and the Legion of Undead Admirers, instead shrugging and leaving the drama where it is. Genuinely you give no fucks, so long as it doesn't affect his ability to run Torchline.
Or so you tell yourself, anyway.
The place looks... homey. Colorful. Lived-in, which surprises you for some reason, even though you know it shouldn't. You do not notice the chew toys until you find one with your toe, wincing before raising a brow and wondering which one of them enjoys such things more - and if you actually need to know.
"Always someone wantin' t'piss in someone else's pot," you mutter as you slide into your stool, taking the nice (but not that nice) whiskey and raising your glass before taking a healthy sip. As for nipping the racism in the bud? You frown into the amber liquid. "Dunno, mate. Told this Gideon he wasn' welcome an' got my people keepin' an eye out, but not a ton I can promise. People talk shit. Whisper. An' frankly, yer Voice ain't done much for Torchline." Not that the Old Gods have, but they've at least done more.
Or so you tell yourself, anyway.
The place looks... homey. Colorful. Lived-in, which surprises you for some reason, even though you know it shouldn't. You do not notice the chew toys until you find one with your toe, wincing before raising a brow and wondering which one of them enjoys such things more - and if you actually need to know.
"Always someone wantin' t'piss in someone else's pot," you mutter as you slide into your stool, taking the nice (but not that nice) whiskey and raising your glass before taking a healthy sip. As for nipping the racism in the bud? You frown into the amber liquid. "Dunno, mate. Told this Gideon he wasn' welcome an' got my people keepin' an eye out, but not a ton I can promise. People talk shit. Whisper. An' frankly, yer Voice ain't done much for Torchline." Not that the Old Gods have, but they've at least done more.
The silver saxophones say I should refuse you
But it's not that way, I wasn't born to lose you
But it's not that way, I wasn't born to lose you
