Madame George lyrics

Jon Ford austin-ghetto-list@pairlist.net
Mon Mar 22 12:26:15 2004


Bob-- the actual lyrics to the song are a little different than you 
remember-- the perfume was "Shalimar" and it's Madame George himself/herself 
"playing dominoes in drag." But you got a lot of it right and made your 
point about Morrison being able to enunciate.

Madame George Lyrics

Down on Cyprus Avenue
With a childlike vision leaping into view
Clicking, clacking of the high heeled shoe
Ford & Fitzroy, Madame George
Marching with the soldier boy behind
He's much older 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
A 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 the 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 cold
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
Oooooo
Mmmmmmm
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....
Get on the train, get on the train...


>From: "Telebob" <telebob@sbcglobal.net>
>Reply-To: austin-ghetto-list@pairlist.net
>To: <austin-ghetto-list@pairlist.net>
>Subject: RE: an essay on language by Byron A. Marshall, the sage of 
>Pineville, Louisiana
>Date: Sun, 21 Mar 2004 10:48:24 -0600
>
>To be born again... or was that to be borne again?
>
>And the click and clacking of the high heel shoe, and that smell of sweet
>perfume comes drifting through, kids out in the street collecting bottle
>tops, oh that's when you fall, that's when you fall,
>When you fall into a trance, sitting on a sofa playing games of chance, and
>you fall into the eyes of Madame George, and you call out playing dominoes
>is a drag....Two gyps cry out lord have mercy I think it's the cops, and
>immediately she drops everything she gots down into the steet below... say
>goodbye to Madame George, dry your eyes for Madam George.
>
>In the back street in the back street say goodbye to Madame George
>
>Oh I think you can understand his words just fine... I love that record 
>like
>almost no other.
>
>Loves to love to love to love...say goodbye to Madam George
>
>telebob
>
>Get on the train....this is the train...say goodbye say goodbye
>+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
>
>
>
>used to always carry astral weeks, one of the world's finest albums,
>when i flew.
>
>
>
>
>
>Stephanie Chernikowski
>StepCherPhoto.com
>
>
>
>

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