| Lyrics: | Down the Cyprus Avenue
With child-like visions leaping into view,
A clicking clacking of the
high-heeled shoes,
Ford and Fitzroy, Madame Joy,
Marching with the soldier boy
behind
He's much older now with hat on, drinking wine
And that smell of sweet perfume comes
drifting through
Early cool night air like Shalimar.
Outside they're making all the
stops
Kids out in the street collecting bottle tops
Going for cigarettes and matches in the
shops,
Happy thinking Madame Joy.
Oh, that's when you fall,
Oh, that's when you
fall,
Yeah, that's when you fall.
When you fall into a trance
Sitting on a sofa playing
games of chance,
With your folded arms in history books you glance
Into the eyes of Madame
Joy.
And you think you found the bag,
You're getting weaker and your knees begin to
sag.
In the corner playing dominoes in drag
The one and only Madame Joy.
Outside the
frosty window raps
She jumps up and says, |
