Verdi Cries

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, eat them on the shore

I draw a jackal-headed woman in the sand

Sing of a lover's fate sealed by jealous hate

And 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