cool pairs – either brace yourselves for elimination, or else your hearts must have the courage for the changing of the guards

Sixteen years

Sixteen banners united over the field

Where the good shepherd grieves

Desperate men, desperate women divided

Spreading their wings ’neath the falling leaves

Fortune calls

I stepped forth from the shadows, to the marketplace

Merchants and thieves, hungry for power, my last deal gone down

She’s smelling sweet like the meadows where she was born

On midsummer’s eve, near the tower

The cold-blooded moon

The captain waits above the celebration

Sending his thoughts to a beloved maid

Whose ebony face is beyond communication

The captain is down but still believing that his love will be repaid

They shaved her head

She was torn between Jupiter and Apollo

A messenger arrived with a black nightingale

I seen her on the stairs and I couldn’t help but follow

Follow her down past the fountain where they lifted her veil

I stumbled to my feet

I rode past destruction in the ditches

With the stitches still mending ’neath a heart-shaped tattoo

Renegade priests and treacherous young witches

Were handing out the flowers that I’d given to you

The palace of mirrors

Where dog soldiers are reflected

The endless road and the wailing of chimes

The empty rooms where her memory is protected

Where the angels’ voices whisper to the souls of previous times

She wakes him up

Forty-eight hours later, the sun is breaking

Near broken chains, mountain laurel and rolling rocks

She’s begging to know what measures he now will be taking

He’s pulling her down and she’s clutching on to his long golden locks

Gentlemen, he said

I don’t need your organization, I’ve shined your shoes

I’ve moved your mountains and marked your cards

But Eden is burning, either brace yourselves for elimination

Or else your hearts must have the courage for the changing of the guards

Peace will come

With tranquillity and splendor on the wheels of fire

But will bring us no reward when her false idols fall

And cruel death surrenders with its pale ghost retreating

Between the King and the Queen of Swords

Changing Of The Guards – The Gaslight Anthem and Patti Smith sing (laureate) Bob Dylan

cool pairs – lord have mercy, I think that it's the cops

Down on Cyprus Avenue

With a childlike vision leaping into view

Clicking, clacking of the high heeled shoe

Ford and Fitzroy, Madame George

Marching with the soldier boy behind

He's much older now with hat on drinking wine

And that smell of sweet perfume comes drifting through

The cool night air like Shalimar

And outside they're making all the stops

The kids out in the street collecting bottle-tops

Gone for cigarettes and matches in the shops

Happy taken Madame George

That's when you fall

Whoa, that's when you fall

Yeah, that's when you fall

When you fall into a trance

Sitting on a sofa playing games of chance

With your folded arms and history books

You glance into the eyes of Madame George

And you think you found the bag

You're getting weaker and your knees begin to sag

In a corner playing dominoes in drag

The one and only Madame George

And then from outside the frosty window raps

She jumps up and says, Lord, have mercy I think it's the cops

And immediately drops everything she gots

Down into the street below

And you know you gotta go

On that train from Dublin up to Sandy Row

Throwing pennies at the bridges down below

And the rain, hail, sleet, and snow

Say goodbye to Madame George

Dry your eye for Madame George

Wonder why for Madame George

And as you leave, the room is filled with music

Laughing, music, dancing, music all around the room

And all the little boys come around, walking away from it all

So cool, 

And as you're about to leave

She jumps up and says, hey love, you forgot your gloves

And the gloves to love, to love the gloves

To say goodbye to Madame George

Dry your eye for Madame George

Wonder why for Madame George

Dry your eyes for Madame George

Say goodbye in the wind and the rain on the back street

In the backstreet, in the back street

Say goodbye to Madame George

In the backstreet, in the back street, in the back street

Down home, down home in the back street

Gotta go, say goodbye, goodbye, goodbye

Dry your eye, your eye, your eye, your eye, your eye

Say goodbye to Madame George

And the loves to love to love the love

Say goodbye, goodbye, goodbye

Say goodbye goodbye, goodbye, goodbye to Madame George

Dry your eye for Madame George

Wonder why for Madame George

The love's to love, the love's to love, the love's to love

Say goodbye, goodbye

Get on the train

Get on the train, the train, the train

This is the train, this is the train

Whoa, say goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye

Get on the train, get on the train

Madame George – Marianne Faithfull sings Van Morrison