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Poor John

from Escaping The Madhouse by Stan Simon

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lyrics

POOR JOHN

Goodbye, Poor John,
You died on your front lawn
In your chair
As gun smoke filled the air.

Your hair was slicked back
You had glasses with the lenses cracked
When your brain moaned
You’d call me drunk in the rain at a payphone.

Oh, poor John.
You lived in old films
You shot your gun bleeding in black and white spill.
Its such a shame
How the world never knew your name.

To my old friend
I’ll see you once again.
And one day, John,
They’ll make a film about a drunk and his front lawn.
Oh, poor John.

credits

from Escaping The Madhouse, released July 22, 2013
Stan Simon - Vocals, Guitar
Mark Mcintyre - Bass
Roger Travassos - Drums

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about

Stan Simon Toronto, Ontario

Stan Simon began writing songs at an early age in Toronto, with poignant melodies on a broken guitar from his father. He delivers earnest lyrics, sung with vocal prowess, sharp harmonica and a rustic acoustic sound that resonates through your body. His upcoming album, “Songs from Strange Places” contains classic storytelling and songwriting reminiscent of the great poets and balladeers before him. ... more

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