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Songs:Sunday Morning St. Denis (58804)
From WWR
Contents |
Trivia, story behind the song, etc.
Lyrics
Sunday Morning St Denis by Robb Johnson Autumn was waiting in the streets,
Blown by the cold wind from the river.
You hear the whisper at your feet,
Only the hunger lasts forever.
A flight of pigeons filled the air
And I was King of all Paree
Oh, but what beauty could compare?
Sunday Morning, St Denis
First comes the Working Class of Love
That keeps its pride with its indifference.
The black girls hear some secret dub
And toss their laughter to the distance.
Next comes the white meat, yawning still,
Adjusting strap and lingerie.
She shakes her perm against the chill of winter
Sunday Morning, St Denis
And the bells ring….
And God, who’s also tarted up
And plagued by the lonely, the drunk and the pompous
The echo in the Sacred Heart
Will feel the winter with these daughters,
And shares with them the wounds of love
Pimp and goosepimple equally.
The sparrow numbered with the dove-
Sunday Morning, St Denis
And the bells ring….
Autumn was waiting in the streets for me
Blown by the cold wind from the river
You hear her whisper at your feet, ‘Cherie’
Only the hunger lasts forever.
And we must earn our daily bread,
And what we should be giving free
We come to buy and sell instead.
Sunday morning, St Denis.
What we should be giving free
We buy and sell instead.
Sunday morning, Rue St Denis.
Listener comments about this song
"Sunday Morning St Denis" is one of the most beautiful and evocative of Robb Johnson's songs. It's been described as a "hymn to prostitution".
Robb spent some time in Paris, where he worked up as a busker. St Denis is the 'red light district' of Paris (or one of them). The song describes a misty Sunday morning in autumn (fall), as the prostitutes gradually emerge after the previous night's business. Robb describes, sympathetically, the 'white meat' and the 'black girls'. The bells calling (other) Parisians to mass are heard.
And Robb is a political songwriter - these girls act out of economic necessity. The song ends: "and what we should be giving free, we buy and sell instead." DaveR 02:25, May 11, 2006 (AKDT)
Tags
 | Folk 5,705 items |
 | Sad 200 items |
 | Sunday 51 items |
 | Acoustic 9,768 items |
 | Depressed 123 items |
 | Minor key 353 items |
 | Solo vocalist 11,248 items |
 | Guy With Guitar 1,121 items |
 | Acoustic Guitar 9,315 items |
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on the album Margaret Thatcher My Part In Her Downfall
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Listener rankings: 5 stars=dolcefarniente ♦ Reed ♦ Bleau ♦ Kazookid ♦ Peterdale 4 stars=sparx ♦ Firewalk ♦ Jim ♦ Mert ♦ Kimchifox ♦ Scobey ♦ OldGowl 3 stars=Fine-line ♦ 12-stringer ♦ Doctordoug ♦ JohnA |
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Categories: Folk | Sad | Sunday | Acoustic | Depressed | Minor key | Solo vocalist | Guy with guitar | Acoustic guitar
