Текст песни Honore - James Keelaghan

Honore is huddled near East 53rd
His life in a pile, not too far from the curb
It's come down to this place
But he's not deterred
Honore is huddled near East 53rd

And Honore sits on the lower East Side
He's lost about everything
Except for his pride
A man with a vision
The visions denied
And Honore sits on the lower East Side

They used to say Honore wasn't all there
He'd a penchant for speeches and thousand-yard stares
They said that he fought when some half-breeds rebelled
Sometimes he would weep
And he'd whisper or yell

Now Honore is buried in some pauper's grave
Of his archives, there wasn't left to be saved
49 boxes of books hauled away
And a deed for some land
Near a place called the clay
And Honore was all he said so it seemed
The last act of life left him far from his dreams
They took it away
And it can't be redeemed
And Honore was all he said so it seemed

They used to say Honore wasn't all there
He'd a penchant for speeches, and thousand-yard stares
They said that he'd fought when some half-breeds rebelled
Sometimes he would weep
And he'd whisper or yell
Sometimes he would weep
And he'd whisper or yell