Song for Alain Delon

This is a lyric for a song I wrote, with quite a bit of inspiration from Alain Delon, as well as the city of Chicago.

Sirens sang that love would “make me a better man,”

like a lady dressed in gold,

splendor lighting Sunset Boulevard.

Times have changed, cultural niceties are in flux.

Rhapsodies in shades of rouge,

lay their tune upon my ears under neon lights.

 

Prophets call the rapture in the concrete jungle,

their atonal melodies spread through the street.

Despite crowds which parade along the sidewalk,

I float in thoughts which make the air taste sweet.

 

Touching words came, but then they passed.

Their undertone, eternal youth,

like Alain Delon’s “je ne sais quoi.”

Woman walk with a swagger envied by men,

fluent in phrases of the young,

capturing hearts on Michigan Avenue.

 

Beneath bridges, brigands wait with knives,

stabbing their prey in the stillness of night.

Purses are emptied in these quiet places,

bodies limp with petrified looks on their faces.

 

Beneath bedsheets, these scenes fade into a dream,

obscured by the lens of a long-sought sleep.

Human hearts blur in glimpses of chaos and life,

timeless like Golden Age starlets on silver screens.