Lyrics Ezmerelda Steals the Show - Jack White
What
melancholy
magic
Has
turned
a
multitude
into
mush
Mandibles
drop
from
shock
An
old
lady
at
high
altitude
Whispering
hush
She
slips
off
her
white
shoes
And
grabs
her
tenor
pacifier
From
its
stand
Thirty
half
steps
to
the
microphone
Smile
on
her
face
Flower
in
her
hand
Oh
how
a
crowd
can
melt
When
they've
been
dealt
Such
a
deliciously
delicate
blow
By
a
barefooted
fairy
Not
with
a
clang
but
a
whisper
Totally
stealing
the
show
Fools
desire
distraction
And
not
take
to
heart
Their
faces
to
their
gadgets
fall
south
Ignoring
the
beauty
of
a
fog
on
a
hill
And
a
kitten
with
a
mouse
in
its
mouth
A
motley
mob
settles
down
And
there's
hardly
a
frown
As
the
air
in
the
temple
turns
to
mist
A
spotlight,
a
mark
and
a
cleanse
of
the
throat
And
her
microphone
gently
is
kissed
You
can
hear
a
boot
lace
And
a
speck
of
dust
taste
As
the
babe
bravely
stared
down
the
herd
But
she
played
not
a
note
And
only
one
moment
spoke
These
simple
and
poignant
five
words
You
people
are
totally
absurd
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