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peter hammill - something about ysabel's dance lyrics

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in the new hotel, on fiesta night, the staff are bored;
donna ysabel dances zombie-like, the guests applaud…
the color is local, the tourists are tanned
the natives are restless and everything’s second-hand

places disappear, but the names endure as alibis;
memory’s hazy here, no-one’s really sure of how time flies…
well drunk, the b-ss player cries into his beer –
are ysabel’s mother or ysabel dancing here?

after hours all the couriers are in the bar
round the corner with the drivers in a game of cards…
in bursts ysabel, her hair let loose, her limbs set free;
on the tabletops she’s dancing to a memory –
conversation stops and every eye is turned to see…
something about ysabel’s dance

it’s a shrinking world, it’s a fun-packed cruise, a museum trip:
skirt the native girl, check the rabid dog, rejoin the ship
there’s no charlie mingus, his tijuana’s gone…
this smile for the camera is all just a tourist con

but after hours all the couriers and drivers know
of a cantina where there’s every chance that she might show;
and maybe ysabel will dance the dance for real again
her mother’s footsteps, vice and virtue, l-st and love and pain
there’s something here the anthropologist dare not explain
something about ysabel’s dance…

- peter hammill lyrics

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