PLIGHT

PLIGHT

That lusty flexin’ of hips and knees
set feet a movin’ across the isle.
No Cuban folk had ever seen
such a lively version of the tango style.

Dazed by the fury of that sweaty dance
and stunned by the rhythms that hit the floor,
that old cigar box took his chance
to leave Havana and the tango lore.

He’s not dancing the tango no more
those tricky moves they make him sore
He just wants to sing his song
‘bout philosophy and right and wrong.

Heaved in the whirls of the ocean waves
that box was swept far out to sea.
All those ripplin’ billowin’ days
were a whole lot longer than a little spree.

Got himself stuck in a garbage patch
and bound all around by the ocean streams.
It held him prisoner in plastic trash
and put a big damper on his travelin’ dreams.

He’s not dancing the tango no more
those tricky moves they make him sore
He just wants to sing his song
‘bout philosophy and right and wrong.

Stranded in that rubbish bed
where the air was heavy and his breath so slow,
he could only wait for a change ahead
though a possible escape looked very low.

Then backed by the southerly windy gusts
and led by the mariners ancient tales,
he got a new spark for that wanderlust
and jumped in the hands of the stronger gales.

He’s not dancing the tango no more
those tricky moves they make him sore
He just wants to sing his song
‘bout philosophy and right and wrong.

Many a mile passed by the way
‘tween islands here and islands there.
He took his time just floatin’ astray
by cruisin’ around and headin’ nowhere.

After all the trouble that he’d been through
he was ready for a life of a different kind.
He’d seen enough of the watery blue
and the plight of the tango had left his mind.

He’s not dancing the tango no more
those tricky moves they make him sore
He just wants to sing his song
‘bout philosophy and right and wrong.

He washed ashore in Dublin town
where it felt really good to be on solid ground.
After havin’ a cigar and a whiskey or two
he spent some time just lookin’ around.

It took him awhile but he made some friends
that listened to the stories of his ocean days.
But he never talked about tango trends
nor the Cuban folk and their peculiar ways.

He’s not dancing the tango no more
those tricky moves they make him sore
He just wants to sing his song
‘bout philosophy and right and wrong.

Anne La Berge 2011
lyrics for the composition PLIGHT