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This Lyric is: #219

belladonna opaline
� 2002 john voorpostel

walking streets of paris, night smells on the breeze
been tiring for days of what the camera sees
met a denizen parisian, he offered so much more
at the end of a dead end place on a short street with three doors
follow the green fairy, she�s got something to please
guaranteed satisfaction looking up from your knees
pointed off somewhere vaguely behind the boulevard st germain
where I finally found it at the end of an alleyway


travelling to a place, that inner space, that infinite scape
whatever you want it�s bright inside your mind
its a wonderful place, that inner space, that infinite scape
a searcher�s paradise it will open your eyes


there was a grey green doorway, outside hung a sign
sugar cube on a perforated spoon all weathered by time
I walked in and saw candles, light a collective binge
oh so self indulgent lovers of the green fairy absinthe
everywhere there was a ritual and a favourite way
for bohemian abandon, there was even nightshade
I poured it in, drop by drop, my fairy turned opaline
in one shot I swallowed to float away in my dream


travelling to a place, that inner space, that infinite scape
whatever you want it�s bright inside your mind
its a wonderful place, that inner space, that infinite scape
a searcher�s paradise it will open your eyes


I got talking to the painters, of many years ago
even spoke into the severed ear of vincent van gogh
a poet interjected �bout his misunderstood muse
said its not about the wormwood but the 160 proof booze
even while he cursed the drink, he tightly embraced his absinthe
went off to lie upon his death bed and repent all his sins
he looked into my eyes and said this much I know
the places belladonna takes you, you were never meant to go


travelling to a place, that inner space, that infinite scape
whatever you want it�s bright inside your mind
its a wonderful place, that inner space, that infinite scape
a searcher�s paradise it will open your eyes


walking streets of paris, night smells on the breeze
been walking all day searching to set my mind free
its never been like that first time when I found those three doors
that touch of belladonna makes the fairy dance more
grant me some her potion, absinthe and nightshade
some will tell you its the devil�s drink, but to the green goddess I pray
for belladonna opaline, its my only relief
I strain to hear its whispers on the paris night breeze


travelling to a place, that inner space, that infinite scape
whatever you want it�s bright inside your mind
its a wonderful place, that inner space, that infinite scape
a searcher�s paradise it will open your eyes


[This message has been edited by John Voorpostel (edited 08-31-2002).]

[This message has been edited by blakeh (edited 09-01-2002).]