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