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Evangeline

She's a diamante widow
A sorceress of doubt
She blows the night away
Like a visionary scout
And when the clouds are free
In her robe of citadels
She fills the cup of dawn
With the softest sounds of bells.

Evangeline, Evangeline
How could they treat you
Like the lady who never was ?

She's a hurricane of rhymes
The sea-born poetess
She knows me so perfectly
With care and politeness
And when her birds of prey
Withdraw in caves of ice
Under a dull-led sky
She warbles "Oh, that's nice".

She's a jig-saw inventor
Fascinated with words
Chain smoking alphabets
And encapsulating worlds
She drives a Cougar van
Against all civilian laws
And squeezes menthol pills
In her metallic jaws.

She's a thunder decanter
A dealer of wisdom
She hides her hands with pride
From onlookers at random
And in her velours suite
Five miles high from the ground
She puts a spell on you
Then vanishes without a sound.


Johan Asherton, 1990
© BMG Music Publishing France

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