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mark abel - helen (los angeles) كلمات أغنية

autumn morning, marina del rey
workmen sip their coffee
parked by the mouth of the grand c_n_l
the painters and plasterers will be plying their trade
as soon as their clients are decent
a young girl walks her dog

and i, the pride of fontana
so many years ago i came
to the towers of downtown
pretty, but oh so green, i needed a mentor
i found one in ken
smooth as glenlivet, polite and kind
son of a banker back east
a prince of the board room
charm to spare and wavy hair
he showed me the ropеs, in more ways than one

__ and we always had fun!
off to vеgas, with the top down
weekends in baja sur
the slopes at mammoth
sparkling in the moonlight
sunday brunches in laguna
strolling along the sand
i outmaneuvered the other girls
and rose with the arc of his star
my marvelous man
and over time, the closeness grew
sometimes i wondered what he saw in me

i gave up my flat in van nuys
we married and bought in the palisades
thanks to the money that his parents left
boom times, our times …

soon a child was on the way
i quit my job since ken was almost up to the top
my golden life seemed so secure
unfolding like the proudest bird of paradise

the years rolled on
some friends melted down into the white powder
others wrapped themselves in the flag
we stayed with what we knew
__ or should i say, i stayed
held by the fear of it slipping away
my life narrowed down to a point
and i froze

i couldn’t see, but ken was turning
turning away from me
more and more time at the office
__ or so he said
my focus was our son
a chip off the old block
__ sociable, bright and easy on the eyes
i hardly see him anymore
finally, my husband brought forth his creature
much younger, so lithe and smart
a walking tribute to the plastic surgeon’s art
his plan was perfection, a fait accompli
as i was reeling, the lawyer called to announce ken’s terms
they were generous, i suppose

it all happened so fast
no time to gauge the damage to my heart
that was twenty years ago;
where have i been since then?

a new life, unscheduled
no map or guide for this blasted landscape
i have wandered in the wilderness, a trackless swamp of time
where songless birds are flying

now i live in this place by the sea
manicured, windswept and lonely
life on the via dolce has never been sweet
but maybe tomorrow i will finally turn the page

- mark abel

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