[Intro - spoken, reading aloud, trembling, paper rustle, piano + vinyl crackle] My dear poet... if you’re reading this... I didn’t come... [Verse 1 - upright bass, brushed drums, accordion, strings, grave but tender] My dear poet, forgive my flight Some storms are too old to fight at night I watched you from the cellar door last Sunday And left before you saw me... that was my one way To love you right... by leaving To keep you spring... by grieving Alone, and far from your light [Pre-Chorus - cello enters, muted trumpet, voice breaking] There is a woman in a faraway town Who’s sick and sleeping while the world spins round She calls me "love" though I haven’t earned That word in twenty years... but she never learned How to stop. So I won’t either. My place is there, in the beeping, in the winter Where vows are not poems, but chains I chose Before I knew how your ribbon bows [Chorus - full orchestra, chanson, no "yeah-yeah", devastating dignity] Oh, mademoiselle, you saved my life By making me remember I had a wife Not the girl who makes my old heart sing But the woman who gave me everything When I had nothing... nothing but blame I am falling too... and that’s my shame So I let you go... so you could fly Mademoiselle... don’t ask me why [Verse 2 - piano, strings weep, confessional, older but clear] That Sunday in the cellar was the best I’ve had Since nineteen sixty-eight turned bad You laughed and the ice in my veins broke You looked at me and I... I woke But waking men can’t stay in dreams I’m winter, my love, and you are spring’s seams Coming undone with color and air And I will not be the frost that kills you there [Pre-Chorus - bigger, trumpet cries once, then silence] Don’t wait in the cellar. Don’t save my seat. Don’t walk the rue de Seine in the rain for me. Live all the poems you wrote in my name Find a boy who can give you forever, not shame [Chorus - repeat, add choir "ahh", breaking but resolute] Oh, mademoiselle, you saved my life By teaching me I could still feel... a knife Of joy... and choose not to twist it in To keep you clean of my middle-aged sin I am falling too... and I choose the fall That lands me back behind my wall So you can climb... so you can climb Mademoiselle... you are my crime [Bridge - breakdown, spoken, reading the P.S., voice cracking] P.S. I pressed you a flower. From our window, that day. It’s blue, like your ribbons. Like the sky. Like the way You looked at me when I said your name. Keep writing. Make them all know you came And danced with a ghost who was almost a man again. P.P.S. She doesn’t know. But she’d thank you, if she could, For giving me back to the man I should Have been... before I met you... and because... [Final Chorus - orchestra pulls back, just piano + cello, final dignity] Oh, mademoiselle... my dear poet... goodbye I will love you till the day I die From a distance that honor makes From a room where a sick woman wakes I am falling too... into the sea Of what I was... and can’t be For you... for you... for you... Your Mister Silver... always [Outro - long silence, then vinyl crackle, pen set down, footsteps leaving] ...always.
