Marianne - David Blue

I loved Marianne in the winter

In the loft of her favorite lover

She was growing older

The winter nights were cold

She told me I’m frightened

I said yes I know

Her eyes held me to her

They burned with such a fire

For the saints on the walls

Holy candles in the halls

For those who had left her

I held her and cried

Oh, Marianne you are beautiful

To be this friend

To a stranger who

Leaves you only to fall

Do not cry you have helped me

I will not say goodbye

I know her from another song

Her older poet wrote before

We played it in the morning laughing on the floor

Till he came knocking on the lower East Side door

Yes you know I miss her

Her and her stories of the night

I called her a rabbit

She gave me back my life

I haven’t heard her voice since the Isle of Wight