Whole Damned City

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Edward Sexton

Edward Sexton (9 November 1942 – 23 July 2023) was a British Savile Row tailor, fashion designer and manufacturing consultant. Sexton was called a key player in the history of Savile Row. more »

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Leaving with the last temptation from the kitchen drawer
High strung minor string, hanging
From your shoulder, you go to war
With pity and a stomach in knots
But you're gonna need more
Than cheap shots and kingdomless Gods
You need the Whole Damned City
Everyone's got knives and they're all in me
Presenting arms and doorways down the boulevard
And you're trying so, so hard to walk straight through
To the twenty four hour coffee bar
But you can't get straight, through the doorway
Where you're stripped of everything on you
You don't even know what belongs to you
I gave you the Whole Damned City
The Navy Boy is sitting in the unlit corner
Of the unlit evening in the heart of darkness
His sea legs that dangle from the broken bar stall
He clasps onto his cap and his drink as he looks
At the man in a position of power reading
A graphic novel of Plato and Thomas in bed
Too many words, he murmurs to the page
Too many words and not enough damned souls
All the souls in this Whole Damned City
The Girl at the door asks, need a room, need a room
By the Christ hanging over the desk where the keys hang
for the little beds in the little rooms above the ring
She hands me one, breakfasts at nine, checkout's in the chain gang
Go up and wash but don't be long, the fight's about begin
Up the stairs first left, leave your belongings under the bed
The gloves hang on the wall by the open window
A picture show for the Whole Damned City
I wonder man is this really where you wanna leave me
You can't even call for the phone is in sea
I climb on the little bed and scratch in the wall
When I die, you can have my teeth
To add a little bite to your words
Fill my mouth with gold then go for the knockout
The boxer in the ring, pull up your shorts.
Behind the bleachers is the Whole Damned City
See the dirty crowd and empty faces
You, the Navy Boy, the Wrestler and Santa Claus
Gaunt at the smashed out mind and dripping blood
From the small jar on the shelf by the hanging keys
Your name stamped into the flyer page I don't even
Get a passing glance of pity as I take the stage I don't even
Get a lung full of breath before it's stamped out too
I get the Whole Damned City
The Desk Girl calls the game, she makes a great referee
Calls the bottom of the sea for me
Wake up call for the body cut into thirds
She shouts to the crowd, go back to your rooms
There's nothing left, there's no more words
It's lights out over the Whole Damned City
And for me in these paper walls and empty windows
Where the sun shines through just before noon
Next door, the navy boy and wrestler are naked
But one is beating the other into a tomb
Give them their windows
Give them their Rooms
Give them the Whole Damned City

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