The ghost of al capone (Poem Version From TYIAONS)

in a marble room i was alone somewhere in the heart of rome through gardens long since overgrown down old arcades of broken stone i met the ghost of al capone upon request for some ID he said the guardian angels are working for me i call for a cop he said stop or i shoot one or two holes in your three piece suit i say steady on old fruit he told me not to be so cute consider the river and the concrete boots the dеvil and the deep blue sea what you saw you didn’t see thе guardian angels are working for me the arms the raving arms and the hustle and the bustle muscle in i get sandwiched between the palms the waving palms and the banknotes rustle like an international language even the recession doesn’t put him out of pocket back in the depression he made a profit a one-man crime wave who can stop it the agéd william in his pocket blackmail blue films narcotics served with the style of a real neurotic and the easy smile of a true psychotic a sort of refugee from the heart of the apostolic see from one flat fee to another flat fee the hours are short and the money’s free and the guardian angels are working for me i under pressure suggested it why not confess and quit you’re thirty-nine sir and less than fit he took my false address and split by the dirt roads, through the fever trees in a lamborghini if you please to get from a to b i beat my heart and bend my knee the guardian angels are working for me paralysed in precious stone canonized i stand alone in the clouds of paradise my home a million orchids deck the throne of the man who numbered al capone the man who numbered all his bones a personal friend of the sacred three the guardian angels are working for me