Black Fedora

There's a man with a black fedora,
With a unmistakable dark aurora.
With his night like eyes and pale white skin,
He wears his hair slick, 'tashe, stylishly thin.
His trousers and jacket, and suitable pressed.
A fine gentleman you'd think by the way that he's dressed.
But take a look again, and you'll notice something new.
Miserable circles beneath his eyes, he knows what he's got to do.
From that hidden gun holder he'll pull out your fate.
Hard lump in your throat, you've just got to wait.
You've stepped in on the operation, and you can't get away.
Legs folding beneath you, you'll die this day.
And the only thing you'll remember of that night.
Was that dark fedora, that killed you with it's sight.

©Odd