“Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river You can hear the boats go by You can spend the night beside her And you know that she's half crazy But that's why you want to be there And she feeds you tea and oranges That come all the way from China And just when you mean to tell her That you have no love to give her Then she gets you on her wavelength And she lets the river answer”

“Now suzanne takes you handAnd she leads you to the riverShe is wearing rags and feathersFrom salvation army countersAnd the sun pours down like honeyOn our lady of the harbourAnd she shows you where to lookAmong the garbage and the flowersThere are heroes in the seaweedThere are children in the morningThey are leaning out for loveAnd they will lean that way foreverWhile suzanne holds the mirrorAnd you want to travel with herAnd you want to travel blindAnd you know that she will trust youFor shes touched your perfect body with her mind.”

“Now Suzanne takes your hand and she leads you to the river She is wearing rags and feathers from Salvation Army counters And the sun pours down like honey on our lady of the harbour And she shows you where to look among the garbage and the flowers”

“Hallelujah" "Your faith was strong but you needed proof.You saw her bathing on the roof.Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you.She tied you to a kitchen chair,she broke your throne, and she cut your hair.And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah....”

“I have often prayed for you like this Let me have her”

“Well I see you there with the rose in your teethOne more thin gypsy thiefYes, and thanks, for the trouble you took from her eyesI thought it was there for good so I never tried.And Jane came by with a lock of your hairShe said that you gave it to herThat night that you planned to go clear”

“You have the lovers,they are nameless, their histories only for each other,and you have the room, the bed, and the windows.Pretend it is a ritual.Unfurl the bed, bury the lovers, blacken the windows,let them live in that house for a generation or two.No one dares disturb them.Visitors in the corridor tip-toe past the long closed door,they listen for sounds, for a moan, for a song:nothing is heard, not even breathing.You know they are not dead,you can feel the presence of their intense love.Your children grow up, they leave you,they have become soldiers and riders.Your mate dies after a life of service.Who knows you? Who remembers you?But in your house a ritual is in progress:It is not finished: it needs more people.One day the door is opened to the lover's chamber.The room has become a dense garden,full of colours, smells, sounds you have never known.The bed is smooth as a wafer of sunlight,in the midst of the garden it stands alone.In the bed the lovers, slowly and deliberately and silently,perform the act of love.Their eyes are closed,as tightly as if heavy coins of flesh lay on them.Their lips are bruised with new and old bruises.Her hair and his beard are hopelessly tangled.When he puts his mouth against her shouldershe is uncertain whether her shoulderhas given or received the kiss.All her flesh is like a mouth.He carries his fingers along her waistand feels his own waist caressed.She holds him closer and his own arms tighten around her.She kisses the hand besider her mouth.It is his hand or her hand, it hardly matters,there are so many more kisses.You stand beside the bed, weeping with happiness,you carefully peel away the sheetsfrom the slow-moving bodies.Your eyes filled with tears, you barely make out the lovers,As you undress you sing out, and your voice is magnificentbecause now you believe it is the first human voiceheard in that room.The garments you let fall grow into vines.You climb into bed and recover the flesh.You close your eyes and allow them to be sewn shut.You create an embrace and fall into it.There is only one moment of pain or doubtas you wonder how many multitudes are lying beside your body,but a mouth kisses and a hand soothes the moment away.”