Isabella dances slowly,
Beside the fountain in the square,
But as dark thoughts consume her wholly,
She takes the flower from her hair,
There's still no word from Don Alvaro,
Upon her cheek a crystal tear,
So many miles from San Ignacio,
So very long since he's been here.
Isabella's hands are shaking,
Her heart forsaken overseas,
The Guitarrista plays a new song,
Beneath the Jacaranda trees.
The refrain of the Flamenco floats out to the hacienda,
As the fires of the fiesta fade and die,
The Señoritas of the village pause a moment to remember,
There's no laughter here when Isabella cries.
Don Matteo watches sadly,
The Captain's message in his hand,
Are these the words she wants so badly,
If they're too cruel to understand?
Her eyes that burn like stars above you,
Her hair as black as darkest night,
Her lips that whisper that they love you,
For these a man would surely fight.
Don Matteo burns the letter,
There is no better path he sees,
As the Cicadas sing their sad song,
Up in the Jacaranda trees.
The refrain of the Flamenco floats out to the hacienda,
As the fires of the fiesta fade and die,
The Señoritas of the village pause a moment to remember,
There's no laughter here when Isabella cries.
Edited by bassMonkey on März 06 2022 14:52
Beside the fountain in the square,
But as dark thoughts consume her wholly,
She takes the flower from her hair,
There's still no word from Don Alvaro,
Upon her cheek a crystal tear,
So many miles from San Ignacio,
So very long since he's been here.
Isabella's hands are shaking,
Her heart forsaken overseas,
The Guitarrista plays a new song,
Beneath the Jacaranda trees.
The refrain of the Flamenco floats out to the hacienda,
As the fires of the fiesta fade and die,
The Señoritas of the village pause a moment to remember,
There's no laughter here when Isabella cries.
Don Matteo watches sadly,
The Captain's message in his hand,
Are these the words she wants so badly,
If they're too cruel to understand?
Her eyes that burn like stars above you,
Her hair as black as darkest night,
Her lips that whisper that they love you,
For these a man would surely fight.
Don Matteo burns the letter,
There is no better path he sees,
As the Cicadas sing their sad song,
Up in the Jacaranda trees.
The refrain of the Flamenco floats out to the hacienda,
As the fires of the fiesta fade and die,
The Señoritas of the village pause a moment to remember,
There's no laughter here when Isabella cries.
Edited by bassMonkey on März 06 2022 14:52