Saint Monica

She stood like a wolf in the doorway
The others laid bare on the ground
And now she makes her bed
Out in Brooklyn instead
And I sleep with the goddamn hounds
Her voice for a moment of lenience
And her words for the coin in your jar
And while she pays her dues
As another man’s muse
I still can’t tell my head from my heart
I cannot know all that I am
Lest I forget I’m a decent man
Now she drinks and I smoke as we please to
While the other men fall to their knees
And a trifling part
In the back of my heart
Says if ever that coward is me
Maybe if I begged some old saint for her patience
And then sold it to pay for her time
Til I wake up one day
And to all my dismay
That old face in the coffin is mine
I cannot know all that I am
Lest I forget I’m a decent man
Oh, I’m a decent man
She stood like a wolf in the doorway