A Slow Jazz, Film-Noir-Style Song

Created for our upcoming story, THE RED NIGHT (in development with Max Nera).

(c) 2025 Dennis M. Lowery

[Verse 1]
The smoke-thick room
reeks of bourbon sins.
In a country that jails
…for drinking gin.
The rough men eye him,
…a wary glance…
at his cane held firmly,
a lame knight’s lance.

[Verse 2]
A forlorn man
who met his call,
Ignoring whispers,
talk of the fall.
At the bar,
he leans in close,
a man whose life
he never chose.

[Chorus]
Whispers in the smoke,
shadows on the floor,
truth just a game
no one plays… no more.
Should I run…
should I hide,
Where can I go?
They won’t find.

[Verse 3]
His coat still smells
of city fire,
of blood, and ash…
and burned-out spires.
He grips his cane,
…I sense his ache,
Still, he offers
…his hand to take.

[Bridge]
Some men fled,
…some men fell,
some woke up
in a brand-new Hell.
Red washed over
…every street,
a night of silence,
a night of grief.

[Verse 4]
Nowhere’s safe;
…eyes everywhere.
How can I trust
he really cares?
The men I know
…all walk the line.
What makes him
not that kind?

[Verse 5]
I shake my head
and tell him… go.
I can’t give him
what he wants to know.
Resistance won’t last
too long…
The Red iron fist;
…just too strong.

[Chorus]
Whispers in the smoke,
shadows on the floor,
truth a deadly game
no one wins… no more.

[Outro]
A siren’s howl
…grows closer still,
government men
…with rights to kill.
I watch him limp
…into the night,
holding on …
to wrong …
…and right.

…holding on …
to wrong …
…and right.

Truths
a deadly game
no one wins…
no more….

no more….

no more….