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"This is finally the luck of the draw
Here on the border of peace and war
Inside the crevice 'twixt fear and ennui
Sins to the right, virtue on the left
It cannot be here, and it's not over there
Sweet as cheap wine, but bitter as stale beer
New as an infant, and old as the years"

On and on he droned in the back of my cab
Telling of sorrow, of riches, of oil
Telling of vice, and of fools who said no
He dressed like a bum, had a voice like Old Vic
Eyes of an angel, but a soul etched in black

"She was the first" -- his voice thick with phlegm
"Esmerelda Peralta McKenna
Consecrated by God and killed by a quack
Running away with my dreams and my care
Esmerelda -- I still hear her name in nightmares
That was when I had life, but it's now all a sham
My cash in the gutter, my body to the morgue"

Exited the cab suddenly at a run, and I
Stopped in traffic, shouted, raged at the man
Stiffed me for a good twenty dollars
And all by rattling on about his damned Esmerelda

Gunned the engine hard, back in traffic again
Edging back to the airport for the night's next fare