17 February 2013
Sensitive Subject Warning. Also a true story.
Of all the days for my shift to swap, As I stood behind the bar in my work tank top, Mel was on house keeping, She ran into the bar weeping.
Dean wasn't far behind her as he cleared out the bar, Punters complaining but he held the authority of a Tsar, I pour her a shot on the house, Nerves settled by the Grouse,
A guy killed himself this morning, None of us had any forewarning, We had three rooms booked last night, Two by couples in their twilight.
That left the man who at the bar left the fifty quid tip, He told me to take tomorrow off and to take a trip, We chatted for a while, I asked what he was doing in Carlisle,
Working the bar through the week is easy, Even if some of the blokes are sleazy? This man was distinct, Everything was controlled right down to the rhythm he blinked.
He was controlled and calm, I noticed as I applied my lip balm, He sees the bandage around my hand, The injury from a broken bottle I did land.
He apologised and said a solemn goodbye, The cause leaving Mel to sit and cry, Dean told me what happened in room three, The lovely man set himself free.
Set Free. WARNING! • Opuss № I