10,000 Maniacs - Verdi Cries
The man in 119 takes his tea alone. Mornings we all rise towireless Verdi cries. I'm hearing opera through the door. The soulsof men and women, impassioned all. Their voices climb and fall;battle trumpets call. I fill the bath and climb inside, singing.He will not touch their pastry but every day they bring himmore. Gold from the breakfast tray, I steal them all away and then goand eat them on the shore.I draw a jackel-headed woman in the sand, sing of a lover'sfate sealed by jealous hate then wash my hand in the sea. With justthree days more I'd have just about learned the entire scire to Aida.Holidays must end as you know. All is memory taken home withme: the opera, the stolen tea, the sand drawing, the verging sea, allyears ago.
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