She was married when we first met
I helped her out of a jam I guess
But I used a little too much force
We drove that car as far as we could
Split up on a dark sad night
Both agreeing it was best
I had a job in the great north woods
Working as a cook for a spell
But I never did like it all that much
And one day the axe just fell
So I drifted down to New Orleans
Where I was looking for to be employed
Workin' for a while on a fishin' boat
Right outside of Delacroix
She was workin' in a topless place
And I stopped in for a beer
I just kept lookin' at the side of her face
In the spotlight so clear
And later on as the crowd thinned out
I´m just about to do the same
She was standing there in back of my chair
Said to me, "Don't I know your name?"
She lit a burner on the stove
I thought you'd never say hello, she said
You look like the silent type
Then she opened up a book of poems
Written by an Italian poet
From the thirteenth century
I lived with them on Montague Street
In a basement down the stairs
There was music in the cafés at night
And revolution in the air
Then he started into dealing with slaves
And something inside of him died
She had to sell everything she owned
So now I'm goin' back again
I got to get to her somehow
All the people we used to know
They're an illusion to me now
Some are carpenters' wives
Don't know how it all got started
I don't know what they're doin' with their lives
