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Where The Light Don't Reach (The Neon's Burning Brightly)

from Where The Light Don't Reach by Ross W Berman IV

/

lyrics

The eggs are on the skillet
The Messenger's been stoned
He's bleeding in the alleyway
'Til his manager says "go home"
Clarinet & Banjo,
they finally roll that joint
They pass it off to the Russian Bear
Who then forgets his point
It was something about romance
and the nature of mankind
But the Russian Bear ain't made a whole lotta sense
Since Joe Rogan blew his mind
I pass the joint to The Messenger
and he says "No thanks, my friend"
So I pass it back to the Russian Bear
and the whole damn thing starts again

And the karaoke marathon
continues deep inside
No one feels like singing much
With the alleyway open wide

There's a hotel room up on State Street
Where The Tourist just don't know
You can go a thousand miles from home
But you'll bring all your troubles in tow
Piccolo & Violin,
they melt through the lobby sky
They bleed & lead The Tourist
to some sentimental dive
It's made out of mahogany
and everyone knows your name
The Tourist bought himself a bottle of whiskey
and between you and me, it didn't last the day
The city rises above him
The puppet trolley plays
The Tabbey Cat asked for a dollar
But The Tourist just shrugged
and said "it's getting late."

And the neon's burning brightly
But no one wants the light
Why be flies led to a flame
when the alleyway's open wide

Somewhere deep in Uptown
underneath the Lawrence stop
Satine will give you anything
that a strapping young man might ever want
She's never made any profit
She's never asked for a dime
She fills herself with self-hatred & bile
when she needs to kill the time
and her friends they never judge her
that's not what friends are for
Plus they can always trust she'll get blind stinking drunk
and scream "Oh god I'm such a whore!"

When she's alone in her bedroom
The music still makes her cry
She hears it just like you or me
By the alleyway open wide

Well step right up my friends, its a penny for The Messenger
it's a dime for The Tourist
and if you want sweet Satine my friends
just tell her you're some kind of purist
Tell her that you listen to vinyl
and that you'll never touch the skag
and if she asks how big you are
just tell her that "she'll gag"
There's not much left to say anymore
about Sweet Home Chicago
The alleyways have answers to questions
I never wanted to know
There ain't no John Holmes anymore
There ain't no Betty Page
It's where everyone's a pornstar
and the avenue's a stage

And the neon's burning brightly
but no one wants the light
Why be flies led to a flame
when the alleyway's open wide

It's a million miles anywhere
It's a million miles back home
You can build yourself your own Xanadu
your own stately pleasure dome
But when it all comes crashing down
and the centre cannot hold
You'll miss the days you were young & dumb
and wild and free and bold

You drew a line right in the sand
and put me on the otherside
I'll meet you where the light don't reach
by the alleyway open wide
credits

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from Where The Light Don't Reach, released April 2, 2021

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Ross W Berman IV Chicago, Illinois

Chicago-based-wrestling journalist-musician-playwright-raconteur

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