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Brazzaville

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Brazzaville

Madalena

Walking through the streets of Amsterdam
Half a pack of kreteks in my hand
The rain smells like a woman
That I knew long ago
And I hope she's happy
Hope she's doin' grand

The cyclones never seem to get this far
They die out off the shores of Zanzibar
And at night I watch the storm clouds
Lighting up the sea
And I wonder if she ever thinks of me

Madalena
There's something in the way you held me
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But there's not much left
To hold onto anymore

I'm older now
My hair is turning gray
A fixture at this crumbling café
And I'm haunted by the memories
Of the man I used to be
'Cause he took your love
And threw it all away

And Madalena…