Lyric provided by www.seekalyric.com |
On the lam from the law, on the steps of the capitol, you shot a plain-clothes cop on the ten o'clock. And I saw, momentarily, they flashed a photograph. It couldn't be you. You'd been abused so horribly, but you were there in some anonymous room. And I recall that fall--I was working for the government-- and in a bathroom stall off the national mall how we kissed so sweetly! How could I refuse a favor or two? And for a tryst in the greenery, I gave you documents and microfilm too. From my ten-floor tenement, where once our bodies lay, how I long to hear you say: "No they'll never catch me now. No, they'll never catch me, no they cannot catch me now. We will escape somehow. Somehow." It was late one night, I was awoken by the telephone. I heard a strangled cry on the end of the line. Purloined in Petrograd, they were suspicious of where your loyalties lay. So I paid off a bureaucrat to convince your captors there to secret you away. And at the gate of the embassy our hands met through the bars as your whisper stilled my heart: "No they'll never catch me now. No, they'll never catch me, no they cannot catch me now. We will escape somehow. Somehow." And I dreamt one night you were there in court. Head held high in uniform. It was ten years on when you resurfaced in a motor car. And with a wave of an arm, you were there and gone. |