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Milanese Waltz/Marie Flore
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Joan Baez
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1
Marie, Marie Flore was a small girl of ten
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Whom I met in the south end of France
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Stepping out of the crowd was the daughter
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Of someone with flowers for me, we were friends at a glance
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She spoke no English but sat by my side in the car
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And pointed out places en route to the village of Arles
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Marie, Marie Flore came to table that night
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As I dined in an ancient hotel
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The room was all fitted with things from the seventeenth century
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And they suited her well
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She would eat nothing but sat in her chair like a queen
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And laughed at my French but seemed always to know what I'd mean
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Marie, Marie Flore came to hear me that night
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When I sang for the people of Arles
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She stood back in the shadows of a ruined arena
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Her frame in my mind was never too far
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In the rush that did follow, I found she was holding my hand
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And ushering me through an evening the elders had planned
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Marie, Marie Flore, I will always remember
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Your eyes, your smile and your grace
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The gold that flowed with your laughter remains
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To enlighten the image I have of your face
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For I have seen children with faces much wiser than time
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And you my Marie, are most certainly one of this kind
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Marie, Marie Flore, all the odds say I see you again
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By plan or by chance
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But if not, you'll be there when I'm dreaming of rain over Paris
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Or sun on the south end of France
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Marie, Marie, Marie Flore
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