lirik lagu something about ysabel’s dance – peter hammill
in the new hotel on fiesta night
the staff are bored;
donna ysabel dances, zombie-like,
the guests applaud….
the colour is local,
the tourists are tanned
the natives are restless
and everything’s second hand.
places disappear, but the names endure
as alibis;
memory’s hazy here, no one’s really sure
of how time flies….
well drunk the b-ss player
cries into his beer –
are yzabel’s mother
or yzabel dancing here?
after hours all the couriers are in the bar
round the corner
with the drivers in a game of cards…
in bursts ysabel, her hair let loose,
her limbs set free;
on the tabletops she’s dancing to a memory –
conversations stops and every eye
is turned to see…
something about ysabel’s dance.
it’s a shrinking world, it’s a fun-packed cruise,
a museum trip:
skirt the native girl, check the rabid dog,
rejoin the ship.
there’s no charlie mingus,
his tijnena’s gone…
this smile for the camera
is all just a tourist con.
but after hours all the couriers and drivers know
of a cantina where there’s every chance
that she might show, and maybe ysabel
will dance the dance for real again,
her mother’s footsteps, vice and virtue,
l-st and love and pain.
there’s something here
the anthropologists dare not explain,
something about ysabel’s dance
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