Charles Bukowski - Hustle lyrics

I was born to hustle roses down
The avenues of the dead
River gut, girl river damn drown
People going in and out of
Books and doors and graves
People dressed in pink getting haircuts and
Tired and dogs and Vivaldi
You missed a cat argument
The grey was tired, mad, flipping tail
And he monkeyed with the black one
Who didn't want to be bothered
And then the black one chased the grey one
Pawed it once the grey one said, "Yaaow!"
Ran away, stopped, scratched it's ear
Flipped it astraw
Popped in the air and ran off
Defeated and planning
As a white one, another one
Ran along the other side of
The fence chasing a grasshopper
Somebody shot Mr kennedy
The best way to explain the
Meaning of concourse is
To forget all about it or any meaning it
All is just something that grows
Or does not grow
Lives a while, and dies a long time
Life is weak the rope around a man's
Neck is stronger than
The man because it does not suffer
It does also not listen to Brahms
But Brahms can get to be a
Bore and even suffering when you are
Locked in a cage with sticks, Almost forever
I remember my old man rage because I did
Not sweat when I mowed his lawn
Twice over while the lucky
Guys played football
Or jacked off in the garage
He threw a two by four at the
Back of one of my legs, The left one
I have a blood vessel that juts out an inch
There now and I picked up the log
Threw it into his beautiful roses and
Limped around and finished the
Lawn not sweating and twenty-five years
Later I buried him he cost me a grand
He was stronger than I was
I see the river now, I see the river now
Grass fish limping through, milk blue
She's taking off her stockings
She's beginning to cry
She looks at me, she's crying
"My car needs two new front tires"