You wake to the song of crows

On that rarified street row

Where even the trees stand prouder than the rest

You took your coat and fled

Leaving evenings brocade dress

Hanging like a banshee from the oaken chest

Oh Manon, lay your cool hands down

And gather night up in your daybreak arms

And when the season finally turns

You'll see that everything's unlearned

You're standing naked in the town

Oh Manon, those wet black leaves like pirate flags

They sail their branches on a wild wind fast

They think they're journeying towards the fabled stars

But they forgot that they are bound by roots and trunks and sodden earth...

You left the dim light to contend with early Mars

You left what couldn't be still dreaming in the dark

Oh you and I, Manon, were captives from the start

We are sisters of this longing that's the keeper of our hearts

Pilgrims of this sorrow, with our flags nailed to the past

With your will set

You light a cigarette

And watch the smoke make faces pensive and uncertain

Waiting for the train

In that cathode station cafe

The rain is lowered like a last act curtain

You draw his mouth in coffee

Paper for his hair

And the the chorus line sings:

"He's not here"

But you Manon will fill these broken lungs with air

"Miseria Cantare"