The man in 119 takes his tea all alone Mornings we all rise To while his Verdi cries I'm hearing opera through the door Souls of men and women impassioned all Voices rise and fall Battle trumpets call I fill the bath and climb inside Singing: lala la la lala la He will not touch that pastry but every day they bring Him more Gold from the breakfast tray I steal them all away And go eat them on the shore Lala la la lala la Lala la la lala la I draw a jackal-headed woman in the sand Sing of the lover's fate Ruled by jealous hate Then go wash my hands in the sea In just a few days more I'd just about learned the entire score To Aida Holidays must end as you work on All these memories I take them home with me The opera, the stolen tea, The sand drawings, the virgin sea Old years ago.