This small forgotten bar in the middle of the city
The girl sits behind the piano
No one pays her any mind except me
Her smile a slash of sadness
She plays her first chord
And from nowhere this jazz sound emerges
She should be playing in concerts
Her fingers caress the ivory keys
She coaxes brilliance out of the tired old piano in the corner
And she sings of heartache and beauty
She bares her soul so personally it makes me want to turn away
But I can’t tear my eyes away as she echoes our forgotten dreams
The whore trying to pick up johns recalls
when she came to this city to be an actress
Before life crushed her down
An old drunk with tears in his eyes remembers
his youthful happiness with his wife and kids
Before the booze took them away
The barman wiping down the glasses reminisces
on how he only came to this bar while writing his manuscript
Twenty years on, it lays forgotten with his dreams
I sip my drink slowly and think
Of her voice, and write in my notebook
Of smoky jazz and candescent chords
Of Bach and B minuses
Of Nina, Ella, Billie and Etta
Her voice echoes the same haunting loveliness
intertwined with loss, suffering and madness
She's everything we've ever lost
She's bleakness and beauty
She's that last lost hope
She is you and me...