The summer’s long gone, but the sun drips on
A river the colour of coffee slides by.
And there are oranges on the trees
And girls with bare shoulders and bare knees.
And there is music everywhere.
A man who is half crazy plays bagpipes for pennies
And the beggar dances with a cardboard woman dressed in rags.
And when you sit in a street café on a chair
A thin gypsy thief sells you a lock of her hair.
And in a second floor apartment in a building on the corner by the square
Behind a balcony and a blind
Two lovers touch and find
They cannot reach other’s mind.
And the poor sleep on the tiled floor
Of the banks of the rich.
And you who have travelled so far
and for so long
See ghosts of lost loves leaning against the bar.
Yeah, winter is coming on
And before long
The sun will be gone.
A river the colour of coffee slides by.
And there are oranges on the trees
And girls with bare shoulders and bare knees.
And there is music everywhere.
A man who is half crazy plays bagpipes for pennies
And the beggar dances with a cardboard woman dressed in rags.
And when you sit in a street café on a chair
A thin gypsy thief sells you a lock of her hair.
And in a second floor apartment in a building on the corner by the square
Behind a balcony and a blind
Two lovers touch and find
They cannot reach other’s mind.
And the poor sleep on the tiled floor
Of the banks of the rich.
And you who have travelled so far
and for so long
See ghosts of lost loves leaning against the bar.
Yeah, winter is coming on
And before long
The sun will be gone.
1 comment:
Roger, you're a man of many talents. Loved the poem - it so vividly described the scenes we shared during our walks around Seville. Hope the Whistler weather is treating you both well.
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