Tales from the Crescent

Here I am tapping upon your shoulder
Turn quickly and you might catch
The rustle of petticoats, flick of a pocket watch
Brush of a soft silken sash
I am love, I am loss, I am anguish
I am joy and I am misery
And I whisper from every shadow
Come listen now
To me

For I'll tell you tales from the crescent
Sing a city's sad songs of desire
From streets inundated with water
From rooftops ablaze with fire
Yes I'll tell you tales from the crescent
I'll conjure up spirits that dwell
In slate-shingled attics
Past swirls of cast iron
They'll captivate you
With their spell

Here I am following closely behind
As you walk the old brick streets
Here I am hovering, gazing down from
The St. Louis Cathedral eaves
I'm the wail of the train in the distance
I'm the moss hanging from the oak tree
And I emanate from every decaying timber
I resonate from every stone you can see
I permeate the very air that surrounds you
I am history

For I'll tell you tales from the crescent
Sing a city's sad songs of desire
From streets inundated with water
From rooftops ablaze with fire
Yes I'll tell you tales from the crescent
I'll conjure up spirits that dwell
In slate-shingled attics
Past swirls of cast iron
They'll captivate you
With their spell
Ooooo