Casablanca Lyrics

"Casablanca"By Tom RappThe man with the shadowsOn his face sits in a chairCalls the cobwebs laceBehind his painted smileThe desert loomsFor mielsIn CasablancaIn the millhouseAnother man spirals roundNow and then and afterHe drinks from a pitcherOf warm spit, but it's hisSo it doesn't matterIn CasablancaThe boys in the blue brass choirSing old tunesWith their bootsAnd a heavy beatAnd when the song is doneJesus lies bleeding in the streetsOf Casablanca