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Manon
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Ana Silvera
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1
You wake to the song of crows
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On that rarified street row
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Where even the trees stand prouder than the rest
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You took your coat and fled
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Leaving evenings brocade dress
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Hanging like a banshee from the oaken chest
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Oh Manon, lay your cool hands down
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And gather night up in your daybreak arms
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And when the season finally turns
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You'll see that everything's unlearned
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You're standing naked in the town
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Oh Manon, those wet black leaves like pirate flags
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They sail their branches on a wild wind fast
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They think they're journeying towards the fabled stars
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But they forgot that they are bound by roots and trunks and sodden earth...
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You left the dim light to contend with early Mars
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You left what couldn't be still dreaming in the dark
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Oh you and I, Manon, were captives from the start
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We are sisters of this longing that's the keeper of our hearts
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Pilgrims of this sorrow, with our flags nailed to the past
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With your will set
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You light a cigarette
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And watch the smoke make faces pensive and uncertain
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Waiting for the train
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In that cathode station cafe
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The rain is lowered like a last act curtain
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You draw his mouth in coffee
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Paper for his hair
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And the the chorus line sings:
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"He's not here"
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But you Manon will fill these broken lungs with air
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"Miseria Cantare"
Ana Silvera - Hometown || Baeble Music
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