Lyrics
Knocked gently, crossed the floor, ‘is this seat taken?’
she’s ever gracious in the face of ugly propositions
like “pretty darling you dance with me and we’ll see which seats are vacant”
but what good is grace in the home of distaste? And what might it be she thinks earned her a seat?
at each place she tries, smoke gets in her eyes, and we all feign surprise
we’re happy enough with the things in our cups, she’ll never get a try
but now she’s learning the customs, of her life in the flotsam, but she never gets them right
she’ll start questioning, has this world really been setting her up just to knock her down, again and again and again
It’s not far down the road, that she fears that she knows, there’s not far she can go
like a lost lonesome cowboy, she’s stumbling through some city in some grainy old show
she seems to remember a country of splendour, and a time the box was closed
it’s far too late, for days she never quite thanked, days spent watching the ocean throw up on itself
She sits in a park, trying to think up a start, a way to set herself up
and my man with his cards, he tugs at her heart and surveys her palms
says he sees things are hard then pulls out a dove and cuts it in half
his sickening laugh, at her pitiful heart, leaves her wondering; ‘what kind of place am I in?’
She meets a man sipping, and satisfied working, he offers his card
he says he’s looking for someone, and like a sucker in love she signs up and works hard
she’s sure he has secrets, and things that he teaches, like how to cut straight through to the heart
if she scares him or charms him, or swears she’ll stand by him, she just might find a way to stop everything coming apart
oh what an innocent plan, to learn from a man, in such high demand
she’s heard of his river, that it’s a money giver, she’s keen to try her hand
it’s feng shui and fine wine, it’s all timbre’s divine, ever since he conquered his mind
but all night he’s slurping, she tries to observe him, his screams rattle his spine, ‘you’ll never, get a drop, it’s all mine!’
With so many needs, and nothing to seize, it’s not hard to believe
now she’s looking for leads in corner stores and down dirty alleys
The ones that she’ll meet will seem so kind and so sweet but they’d sell anybody
she smiles at lies, in a hope to disguise, the evenings she’s cried and cried, but she’ll get no pity of mine
on these hideous corners, in our city of squalor, she has nothing much to lose
she’s tried drink and religion, took a bit of both, but found little of use
She went to speak with scholars who offered to break their promises
but they just took her cash, and showed her their backs, and while I smile, she seethes, through gritted teeth
So I told her;
A handful of apple seeds and one cured tobacco leaf is all I can offer to thee
you can steal if you like, but be sure you’ll be tried and find none on your side
but then I think, and then I find, there’s one thing you might like, it’s a chance of one night
I pass on the address, the time and the rest, and I almost feel bad, I can see this is the best she’s had
Epimetheus eats with us, oblivious to the hideous and ignominious work that he’s done
so beware the deceitful, for there’s many an evil, but hope’s second to none
and our sorry little thing? she’s so hopeful and woeful and easily won
we see her outside, with no blame yet prescribed, but by the end of these lines, the bitch’ll be coming undone
The night trudges on, the wind’s weak and warm, she finds the place she’s invited
she strolls to the bar, and no questions are asked as she stumbles inside
I take the reigns of the stage, and for what seems like an age, I massage my lyre
my music is soft, the room is in love, but she’s unsure, surely not with this screeching song
The lyre it beats, she tastes blood with each and falls from her seat
eyes crash to the floor, outraged by the whore interrupting our scene
I looked in on her wounds, all holed up in their rooms, and I’m gorging on glee
now on the verge of the free, I look over at she, and the underworld swallows her whole, now this seat's taken