Manon

You wake to the song of crows
On that rarified street row
Where even the trees stand prouder than the rest

You took your coat and fled
Leaving evenings brocade dress
Hanging like a banshee from the oaken chest

Oh Manon, lay your cool hands down
And gather night up in your daybreak arms
And when the season finally turns
You'll see that everything's unlearned
You're standing naked in the town

Oh Manon, those wet black leaves like pirate flags
They sail their branches on a wild wind fast
They think they're journeying towards the fabled stars
But they forgot that they are bound by roots and trunks and sodden earth...

You left the dim light to contend with early Mars
You left what couldn't be still dreaming in the dark
Oh you and I, Manon, were captives from the start
We are sisters of this longing that's the keeper of our hearts
Pilgrims of this sorrow, with our flags nailed to the past

With your will set
You light a cigarette
And watch the smoke make faces pensive and uncertain

Waiting for the train
In that cathode station cafe
The rain is lowered like a last act curtain

You draw his mouth in coffee
Paper for his hair
And the the chorus line sings:
"He's not here"
But you Manon will fill these broken lungs with air
"Miseria Cantare"