Monday Morning Superstar
She walks through the early market stalls
She walks through the early market stalls
On high heels that echo from the old town walls
As she passes the man with the honey and the eggs
He pretends not to notice the curve of her legs
And adjusting his goods for a better view
He remembers the things he always wanted to do.
She turns the corner and into the square
The fish seller’s late, his slab is still bare
She walks straight on, not glancing left or right
Through pools of light and dark, the sun still low and bright
As she approaches the church, the priest begins to chant
She wears one of those dresses, the hem cut on the slant.
The bell rings at last to end the morning mass
Already in the café the faithful raise a glass
Coffee and cognac, the smells are divine
Especially to follow stale communion wine
She takes her place behind the counter of the bar
Every Monday morning street market superstar.
© Jeffrey James Culling & Giuseppe Valdo Conte
Vocals Jeff
All Instruments Joe
