Write Like... Tom Waits

When I was born that rainy Monday
Momma's skin turned as grey as the sky
Oh brother I just started to live
And Momma, she was all set to die
Yeah Momma was all set to die

Oh Daddy stuck the blame right on me
No sir, I never did stand a chance
I was raised in a house full of ghosts
And they never showed me how to dance
Yeah I never learned how to dance

While Daddy drowned his heart with whiskey
I took notes so I could fill his shoes
The day he passed on I said goodbye
And carried on with nothing to lose
Yeah man I had nothing to lose

Well I robbed a man the other day
It felt good to put him in his place
But man that feeling soon was gone
Cause he went and shot me in the face
Yeah he shot me right in the face

Now these beeping machines tie me down
No they won't let me break free and fly
If this is what living's gonna be
Oh my brother I'd much rather die
Yeah brother please just let me die

I wrote this on my blog in November of 2009, while I was in the midst of a pretty serious Tom Waits kick. I'd probably listened to Gun Street Girl close to a hundred times in a row by this point.

Anyway, this exercise reminded me of this, so I thought I'd share.

I'd love to see someone take a shot at writing like Neil Gaiman.

The End

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