[With my doing so much posting that could suggest that I was totally anti-American this weekend, I thought I’d stick these lyrics in for good measure to even things up; they are from a blues song I wrote all about my second favourite city. The women in the song are strictly metaphorical, I promise...]
Lemme tell you the story
Bout how you won my heart
Well-that’s not really true cos, What you really did was,
Tear it all apart
There was I, a happily married man with a beautiful woman
Occupying mind, body and soul
Then you just walked clean outta nowhere honey
And played around with my so-called self control
And though our relationship was always shaky (get it?)
I didn’t mind
And understanding like yours and mine
It’s so very hard to find
But though we had so much in common
Like our sense of humour, our taste, and our liberal views
Even now when I’m pressed for a decision, baby
All I wanna do is play the blues
Play the blues…
You got your keen dress sense
And your long flowin hair
Your sleek smooth body
And your cold piercin stare
When ya turn round and walk up to me
I just forget all my shame
And when ya put your arms around me
I can never feel the same
Well if Dublin’s my woman,
San Francisco,
You can be my mistress anytime!
© JL Pagano 1991
click here for a full index of my poetry and song lyrics
1 comment:
I describe the San Fran that I knew as an aristocratic, elegant lady that has fallen on hard times. Her clothes are starting to show wear but she retains that aura of jaded, sophisticated elegance.
Las Vegas was my garish, hard-bellied slut.
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