The Floods Of Florence

Picasso leans out of the window, looks out on the ghetto

Changing the shapes he sees

His old friend El Greco, soon is expected

Now just an echo of Spanish seas

And outside, the people stare

Wondering what's going on in there

Tossing the dice, they pay the price

So they can compare

And the holy of love and reverence

Fell beneath the floods of Florence

The shop girls go out to the galleries, spending their salaries

To see if they catch a hold

They meet an old master, like some unknown lover

For some unknown reason he's never old

And the auctioneer clears his throat

What am I bid for this bottled boat?

A tap on the rail, sunk with a sail

But soon she's afloat

And the holy of love and reverence

Fell beneath the floods of Florence

Griffith pulls out his whiskey, the mad room is misty

Covered with yesterdays

The girl is so pretty, she asks for a memory

He touches her knee and she fades away

But the box office line is long

The spectacular show is on

Thirsty for thrills, the fountain is filled

With dreams of the dawn

And the holy of love and reverence

Fell beneath the floods of Florence

The troubadour comes from the country, falls by the factory

Sliding on simple strings

Armed with his anger, he sings of the danger

He senses a stranger is in the wings

But the fledgling has learned to fly

All of the innocence leaves his eye

Echoes explode, rolled from the road

The melody dies

And the holy of love and reverence

Fell beneath the floods of Florence