Verdi Cries
The man in 119 takes his tea all alone.Mornings we all riseto wireless Verdi cries.I'm hearing opera through the door.The souls of men and women, impassioned all.Their voices climb and fall;battle trumpets call.I fill the bath and climb inside, singing.Lala la lala laLala la lala la
He will not touch their pastrybut every day they bring him more.Gold from the breakfast tray, I steal them all awayand then go and eat them on the shore.Lala la lala laLala la lala la
I draw a jackal-headed woman in the sand,sing of a lover's fate sealed by jealous hatethen wash my hand in the sea.With just three days more I'd have just about learned the entire score to Aida.
Holidays must end as you know.All is memory taken home with me:the opera, the stolen tea, the sand drawing, the verging sea,all years ago.