Inpsired by the poem "A Letter to Louis: Ten Years Later" written by Victor Infante.
Louis was a sinner, but he never was a saint.
He had a bleach blonde honey smiling at him, through the Purple Haze
Swaying to music, laughing out of time
He lost his rhythm long ago, searching for a rhyme.
And I can still remember how she looked on the beach
Moving through the moonlight, just a little out of reach
Cigarette smoke like a halo hanging on her head
I'll be damned if I remember a single word she said.
You had a good one Louis, but you threw it all away.
I'm fighting through her letter, wondering what to say.
Did you ever call your Daddy, did you ever settle down?
Did you make it to the city, did they throw you out of town?
The details fall apart like a cocaine reverie
but I'm haunted by the memory of his drunken melody
Now I'm choking on the lyrics, and I heard all the songs
About habits dying hard, and one more friend that's gone.
About habits dying hard, and one more friend is gone.