Big Donkey

The lights ain't coloured here but red
blood and Santa Claus
Observe the pretty chains of gold
'round my pad.
Who's that knocking
on the door?
Could it some little scrawny kid who's wanting more?
But when I open
I see before
Big Donkey.

Big Donkey
Big Donkey
Big Donkey
Big Donkey

Let me take you back in time
to a seedy old motel
Stains of nicotine and grease
decorate the tiles
Who's that banging
on the desk
looking like a prophecy of anger in a vest,
and a tiny me
hoping for a rest;
big donkey.

Big Donkey
Big Donkey
Big Donkey
Big Donkey

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.