Fallen Angel

Last night at the bar I spoke with a poet from afar. I'll never forget his squinty eyes. He had long dark hair and dirty shoes. Looked like he'd been traveling for miles and miles and miles. He was into the blues, and I asked him where he was going to. He said, "I'm just wandering around. Traveling from town to town. Sometimes I'm up. Sometimes I'm down. Down- down- down- down- down." 'Cause there's something about this place. The sun shining on my face. I want to live love and feel free, baby. You should do the same. Kick off your shoes, dance in the rain. 'Cause there's so much to see. Oh-baby, don't let it slip away... He asked me where I was going to and if anything was wrong. He said I looked a little blue and maybe I should be moving on. I told him I was a singer trying to spread some good around. We talked for a while about the power of words and the seduction of song. I told him my soul was wearing a little thin, and I felt like an outsider looking in. He turned around to look at me, and he shook his head, "Girl, you should be in pictures," he said. So I watched this man finish another Bud from a can. He never told me his name, but I'll never forget his face. Old and weathered from the sun. Man, that guy, he looked like he was on the run. He settled up his tab, grabbed his notepad, and I watched him slowly disappear into the street. I think maybe he was a fallen angel. Maybe he fell for me... Oh-I'll never forget those words he said. Now I see...that he's watching over me. This is heaven. Heaven to me. Yah-there's something about this place. The sun shining on my face. I wanna live love and feel free, baby. You should do the same. Kick off your shoes, dance in the rain. 'Cause there's so much to see. I said there's something about this place, sun, shine on my face. I'm living and loving. I feel free baby. You should do the same. Kick off your shoes, dance in the rain. 'Cause there's so much to see. Oh-baby. Don't let it slip away. Don't let it slip away. Don't let it slip away. Don't let it slip away... Last night at the bar I spoke with a poet from afar. I'll never forget his squinty eyes. He had long dark hair and dirty shoes. Looked like he'd been traveling for miles... and miles... and miles...

©2002 Karen McDine