Smelling the burnt rubber of his own bad luck

Tito knew that Karla didn’t want him no more

That she had found a new sugar daddy to fuck

He was no longer the one she claimed to adore

Stretched taut, tied tight

To the underpass below Greenwich

There was nothing he could do, say to make this right

He waited to meet his replacement – the son of a bitch

Binding straps held arms, legs and head

Cicada ticking, a nightmare commentator

Ink shadow emerges, liquid dread

A last minute reprieve? An emancipator?

The knife revealed, blade and tooth exposed

Hail to the king, my heart and love deposed