Boulevard of Lovers Bar
Down the boulevard of lovers
There's a bar the poor admire;
Here the wanderer uncovers
What’s for free and what’s for hire.
Statuettes of Aesop’s fables,
Bronze illusions on a plinth,
Candles shimmer where the tables
Carry brandy or absinthe.
Blondes who sometimes switch to henna
Lure men, hanging nearby are
Faded scenes of old Vienna,
Prints of Paris by Degas.
And a stage is kept at centre
For the dancing girls to use,
Sensually half-dressed they enter;
This alone explains the queues.
How much is desire at night priced?
Spotlight-hungry legs assure,
Writhing to the final zeitgeist
In the years before the war.
Now the blue dance has proceeded
Down to just a black beret,
In the bar that’s always ceded
To a darker cabaret.
©
Down the boulevard of lovers
There's a bar the poor admire;
Here the wanderer uncovers
What’s for free and what’s for hire.
Statuettes of Aesop’s fables,
Bronze illusions on a plinth,
Candles shimmer where the tables
Carry brandy or absinthe.
Blondes who sometimes switch to henna
Lure men, hanging nearby are
Faded scenes of old Vienna,
Prints of Paris by Degas.
And a stage is kept at centre
For the dancing girls to use,
Sensually half-dressed they enter;
This alone explains the queues.
How much is desire at night priced?
Spotlight-hungry legs assure,
Writhing to the final zeitgeist
In the years before the war.
Now the blue dance has proceeded
Down to just a black beret,
In the bar that’s always ceded
To a darker cabaret.
©




”
I got fairly sozzled in a pub called The Nag's Head, but I never saw Del-Boy or Trig