| Lyrics: | Down on Cyprus Avenue
With a child-like vision leaping into view.
The clicking
clacking of the high-heeled shoes,
Ford and Fitzroy; Madam George.
Marching with the
soldierboy behind
He's much older now with hat on, drinking wine
And the smell of
sweet perfume comes drifting thru
In the cool night breeze like Shalimar
And then your
self control lets go
And suddenly you're up against the bathroom door.
The hallway
lights are finely getting dim
You're in the front row touching him
And outside they're
making all the stops
The kinds out in the streets collecting bottle tops,
Going for
cigarettes and matches to the shops,
Happy talking, Madam George
And that's when you
fall, Oh,
Oh, that's when you fall
And 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 Madam George
And you think you've found your bag,
You're getting
weaker and your knees begin to sag
And in the corner playing dominoes in drag,
The one
and only Madam George
And outside the frosty window raps
She says "Be cool, I think
that it's the cops"
Stands up, drops everything she gots,
It's not easy now you know
Now you know you gotta go
Catch a train from Dublin up to Sandy Row,
In the
wind, rain & fog & slush & snow
Keep on going on
Say good-bye we know you're pretty
far out
And all the little boys comin' round
They got gold cigarette lighters in their
pockets
Walking away from it all, so cool.
That's when you fall.
Fade |
