The man in 119 takes his tea all alone.
Mornings we all rise to wireless Verdi cries.
I'm hearing opera through the door.
The souls of 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 him more.
Gold from the breakfast tray, I steal them all away
and then go and eat them on the shore.
I draw a jackal-headed woman in the sand,
sing of a lover's fate sealed by jealous hate
then wash my hand in the sea.
With just three days more I'd have just about learned the entire score to Aida.
Holidays must end as you know.
All is memory taken home with me:
the opera, the stolen tea, the sand drawing, the verging sea, all years ago.
I loved the 10,000 Maniacs like anything back in the day, and this song is absolutely beautiful. I loved the simplicity of the music and the story in the lyrics. It's a short song, but it says so so much. There's a viola at the end of it, which is exquisite. I was writing earlier this morning, and this song just popped in my head. So, I wanted to share this.