Вечерний Джаз, Jazz Noir Project, Smooth Jazz, Jazz Lounge Токсичный триумф (Toxic Triumph)

This coat has seen a thousand rainy nights
It’s been bathed in blood and neon lights
The collar’s frayed against the autumn wind
A heavy fabric where the dirt is pinned
In the right pocket, a photograph of a missing girl
In the left, a pawn ticket for a cultured pearl
This coat has slept in fifty cheap hotels
It knows the scent of gunpowder and empty shells
It caught the tear of a widow on a Tuesday morn
It kept me warm when I wished I’d never been born
It’s heavy with the weight of every lie I've heard
And every broken, desperate, whispered word
This coat will be the shroud they bury me in
When I finally pay the price for my original sin
Until that day I’ll pull the collar up tight
And walk back into the cold and unforgiving night
Just a shadow moving through the city mist
A ghost that nobody knows exists
Just an old coat.