I've got the soul of a clown trying to get through To get a line straight on through to you. I thought my meanings were crystal clear But what I said you just didn't hear. Tried to heal your sorrow, get you smiling again. But the message got lost on the Underground Line. Boarded the wrong rail, followed the wrong sign. My intentions were true, I thought they were plain to see. But you saw those ghosts standing behind me. Specters from your past clouding your view You couldn't see that it was only me talking to you. Got the soul of a clown trying to break through. Cant stand to see you sad when there is nothing I can do. Boxed in a room not big enough for two Harsh words spoken, recriminations grew. But down by the Thames we had some fun. You read Wild Water beneath the London sun. You danced by the river in your golden braided hair. We ran across WaterlooBridge like two kids on a tear An eye on the Thames, a poem in the air We waltzed our way to Trafalgar Square. For a moment there I thought I had discovered... The magic line between two souls that stays almost always covered. I thought I had finally broken through the wall..... but next day realized I had barely gotten through at all. I've got the soul of a clown trying to break through To mend the heart of the friend I thought I knew. You see I thought we were closer than two trains on a track... but when the train rounded the bend it was a stranger that looked back. You danced by the Thames in your golden braided hair For a moment I heard angels and poetry in the air. But walls go back up, ghosts again cloud your view. Got the soul of a clown, and all I ever wanted to do, was to get a line straight on through to you.
The sounds of Thelonius Monk drift through the sultry night air of Venezia.....Venice. The city of intrigues and illusions. The city that makes love to the sea. The majestic palaces and Byzantine buildings wrap themselves around the winding lagoon. The strained notes of Louis Armstrong dressed up in the Doges finery and elegant masquerades to reflect shimmering light on the canals during carnival. A cool Miles Davis riff becomes the sound of gondolas as they smoothly caress the GrandeCanal. Cool Coltrane becomes a whisper, whispering Byzantine little nothings into the murky waters beneath the Bridge of Sighs. The strains of Charles Mingus are unsettling causing ripples and waves in the green lagoon. There is a storm brewing.
Suddenly a blast from Charlie Parker awakens the Lion of St. Mark, the terrible lion with wings who breathes fire from on high. The clouds are burning, the lagoon is steaming with hot jazz rhythms. Venice...Venezia the city that makes love to the sea.
