Cuernavaca

She slipped through my fingers
With the sway of a tango dancer
Under the brilliant lights of the bay
And it left me in such a state
To watch all those ships depart
While we both put our swords away
I lowered this city to its grave
So that heaven could see me now
I kicked my legs, just off the docks
Whistling through the fuzzy haze
On that blackened Chicago day
With my lungs long past spent
I’d challenge even the fiercest wind
Like a thief on his knees, praying for a getaway
And everybody knows
That I’ve been growing old
Say «bon voyage» with a wave
And everybody knows
That I’ve been growing old
I lowered this city to its grave