salad days

The carpet in the Tradewinds is this crimson red like I could be shot down at any moment and no one would see me bleeding I wouldn't see myself bleeding my heart hurts my heart hurts I would say and as I clutch my hands to my breast they would all nod "my heart hurts too mine too". I would lay down next to the piano like you did that sunny afternoon you had too many and they would stand over me looking down like God and ask "did you have too many have you had too much?" and I would whisper yes and then and then they would pick me up and prop me up on one of these red barstools and as I bleed bleed bleed invisible the bartender would intertwine his fingers like a prayer and say "do you want another do you need another?"