Rory Block
"Like a Shotgun"
On the cobbled streets of London, stone churches reaching high
You were standing in a doorway, beneath a gray and moody sky
You were staring out to nowhere, your face was drawn and thing
It must have been November, you were leaning in the wind
Watching families with babies, lovely ladies catch your eye
Little children in their colored hats, and the tourists strolling by
I saw your face in Paris, on a dark and smoky night
Smoldering like a man obsessed, fear was in your eyes
On a bloody day in Amsterdam, I heard a silent cry
Your face was white and ashy, I thought that I would die
As I held your hand so tightly, I felt the closing of the door
In your eyes I saw that you were gone, a mask and nothing more
You said you had no sorrow, you said you felt no pain
I could see that you were leaving; I could tell that you were gone
And you were gone, gone, like a bat out of hell
With your books and you new-age jargon, I remember it so well
In a restaurant in Brussels, we were waiting for a train
With the glaring yellow lights above, cheese on dry bread again
In the square the birds were sleeping, then the music began to play
And all the lights came streaming on as night was turned to day
I was walking past a castle, in a green and ancient land
I could see you in the distance, with a camera in your had
You spoke to me just briefly, you were telling me goodbye
“Get over it, get over it,” you were angry when I cried
Like a ghost sent from Hades, I heard the funeral bell
Your voice was light a shotgun, words struck me and I fell
You were talking like a cowboy, you were telling me goodbye
You said you might come back someday, I knew it was a lie
You even said you loved me, not to take it personally
As all the years went up in smoke, ‘cause you needed to be free
And you were gone, gone, doing ti your own way
You were moving on to greener fields, you just turned and walked away
