Skystrideria

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

The Armistice Dance

One day I walked out on the street,
Where an old friend I chanced to meet,
Hadn’t seen the man for years,
Would have passed him by I fear,
But he stopped and turned around,
And asked me if my name was Brown,
He looked familiar in a way,
But who he was I couldn’t say,
His face was hid behind a beard,
So he had the advantage of me I feared,
Then he mentioned iSt, Marillion France,
And the night of the Armistice Dance,
Then his name to my mind came,
For I knew it was Hank Lane,
They held it in a vacant store,
And charged you two franks at the door,
So we thought we’d try our luck.
They let us in for half a buck.
The music was a harp and a fiddle,
But it could tease your feet to diddle,
There was chairs along the wall,
And a table in the center of the hall,
Upon which the fiddler stood,
So every one could hear him good,
Those french girls could cut it neat,
Though some were dancing in bare feet,
We had to mind our Ps and Qs,
For we were wearing army shoes,
Well every thing was going fine,
Until they opened a keg of wine,
And they said the wine was free,
So every one had a drink but me,
For I never touch the stuff,
When I’m sober I’m fool enough.
They all danced till three A,M.
Things were getting hectic then,
Though the harp was doing fine,
The fiddler couldn’t keep the time.
I felt sorry for the jerk,
But the wine had done it’s dirty work.
They didn’t know what to do,
And was afraid the dance was through,
But it seems I saved the day,
When I started in to play,
The harpest didn’t know my tunes.
But she cut in pretty soon,
And we got along quite fine,
And forgot about the time.
Untill we heard the town clock strike,
And we saw that it was getting light,
Then they started gathering round,
As I put the fiddle down,
Then the dance was at an end,
But I’d made a lot of friends,
They said they would pass the hat
But I told them none of that.
I told them I’d had fun,
And I thanked them every one,
It was then a little miss,
Came and gave me a big kiss,
But the harpest stepd between,
She was jelous so it seems.
And she said that we should go.
Well she lived in a Chateau,
So you see that she would be. To stuck up for one like me.
Then I thought of my friend Hank,
And I found that he got tanked,
And left the dance with a red head,
Well I guess enough is said,
I never ask him where he went,
Or just how the night was spent.
But as for me it was no riddle,
For I spent my time with a fiddle.

A.D.Brown
Sept. 30, 1979

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