Our Father - Movement 6

But deliver us from evil:

(croons)The pendulum swings,
and brings,
a new generation of King.
And you see ‘his royal highness’,
was just another minus ;)

For he who was everyone’s passion,
now finds himself slightly out of fashion
The King is dead
Long live the King. (/croons)

The old jazz singer sits in his house…a stranger in this decade. I don’t belong here, like a fish in a desert.

My voice used to croon; now it coughs up blood.
My dancing made women swoon; now my legs are lead.
My eyes used to wink at the crowd, now they’re wrinkled and dead.
My lungs used to be able to support a trumpet, now they can hardly support my body.
My mind used to be as quick as a match, now it cant differentiate reality from dream.

DING DONG
Doorbell.

Package.
Open.
Gasp.

A piece of paper is inside…it has a small phrase written on it. Somewhat familiar…then I realise. It is me.

Suddenly im back in the club. Im singing again, about things that used to be both frivolous and serious at the same time.

(croons) If that isn’t love, it’ll have to do
until the real thing comes along ;) (/croons)

The muted trumpet sooths my soul, my silky voice softens my heart, the jazz guitar makes me marvel, the 3/4 time makes me dance.

The package is from me.

I throw the paper to the ground, and I start to waltz with nobody in particular. My legs work again, im my young self. I’m waltzing with a beautiful woman in a chandelier-lit hall…what else do I need?

The paper, Now forgotten on the ground, reads:
For the Kingdom, the power, the glory are yours
Now and forever.