The ghost of al capone (Poem Version From TYIAONS)

in a marble room i was alone
somewhere in the heart of rome
through gardens long since overgrown
down old arcades of broken stone
i met the ghost of al capone
upon request for some ID
he said the guardian angels are working for me

i call for a cop he said stop or i shoot
one or two holes in your three piece suit
i say steady on old fruit
he told me not to be so cute
consider the river and the concrete boots
the dеvil and the deep blue sea
what you saw you didn’t see
thе guardian angels are working for me

the arms the raving arms
and the hustle and the bustle
muscle in i get sandwiched
between the palms
the waving palms and the banknotes rustle
like an international language

even the recession doesn’t put him out of pocket
back in the depression he made a profit
a one-man crime wave who can stop it
the agéd william in his pocket
blackmail blue films narcotics
served with the style of a real neurotic
and the easy smile of a true psychotic
a sort of refugee
from the heart of the apostolic see
from one flat fee to another flat fee
the hours are short and the money’s free
and the guardian angels are working for me

i under pressure suggested it
why not confess and quit
you’re thirty-nine sir and less than fit
he took my false address and split
by the dirt roads, through the fever trees
in a lamborghini if you please
to get from a to b
i beat my heart and bend my knee
the guardian angels are working for me

paralysed in precious stone
canonized i stand alone
in the clouds of paradise my home
a million orchids deck the throne
of the man who numbered al capone
the man who numbered all his bones
a personal friend of the sacred three
the guardian angels are working for me