You were dreaming of Chopin or Frantz Liszt
in a big private room of the Ritz,
intent on a few words that you might jot.
You looked like the Zelda told by Scott
You were wearing a cape of sable-skin
you listened to Kashmere by Led Zeppelin.
You were wearing a cape of sable-skin
You listened to Kashmere by Led Zeppelin.
All the women of the world were present
In a corner of your mind, Zelda.
Angela, Rosa ,Virginia or
so many others that I'll never know.
You were wearing a cape of sable-skin
you listened to Kashmere by Led Zeppelin.
You were wearing a cape of sable-skin
You listened to Kashmere by Led Zeppelin.
All the words that get smothered and stifled
survive in women's dreams or in prisons.
Never more will they escape from cities
Like Zelda, taken to an asylum.
You were wearing a cape of sable-skin
you listened to Kashmere by Led Zeppelin.
You were wearing a cape of sable-skin
You listened to Kashmere by Led Zeppelin.