MICHAEL R. J. ROTH

Lyrics

Our Lady of the Alleyways
©1980 Michael R. J. Roth

Lisa leans over to look at you,
whispering softly to whittle down your hurt,
hanging a lantern,
lifting the fringe of the world.

Smiling, she breathes on a windowpane,
sliding her plans into tangles of your care,
fingers alighting,
nesting her hands in your hair.

She walks along Agua Fria Street,
lingering slightly to gather in the rain,
Down Guadalupe,
Mass is about to begin.

And she tells you a story that ends here:
"Who can you answer? Who can you free?"

Part of her soul lives in Amsterdam,
red light in Libra, soliciting the men.
Mountains surrender
to Moon-in-a-Cheshire-Cat-grin.

Mornings, she works in a restaurant,
taking your orders, forgiving you your sins.
Later, she dances,
practicing arts of defense.

And she tells you a story that ends here:
"Who can you answer? Who can you free?"

She leads you on like a melody,
lighting a candle and letting in the wind,
planting her feet, and then
setting the planet adrift.