We walked in the cold air.
Freezing breath on a window pane,
Lying and waiting.
The man in the dark in a picture frame,
So mystic and soulful.
A voice reaching out in a piercing cry,
It stays with you until
The feeling has gone only you and I.

It means nothing to me.
This means nothing to me.
Oh Vienna.

The music is weaving
Haunting notes, pizzicato strings,
The rhythm is calling.
Alone in the night as the daylight brings,
A cool empty silence.
The warmth of your hand and a cold grey sky,
It fades to the distance.
The image has gone only you and I.

It means nothing to me.
This means nothing to me.
Oh, Vienna.
This means nothing to me.
This means nothing to me.
Oh, Vienna.
.

4 comments:

Gordie said...

Rigsby's cat in 'Rising Damp' was called Vienna.

I, like the view, still said...

didn't watch it, must have been on the channel with commercial breaks

(but I am a huge fan of Reggie Perrin)

craig andrew said...

Good morning!

and apropos of nothing, the word Vienna brought this to mind...

Instructions from the manual
could not have been much more plain
The blues are still required,
The blues are still required again
Past territorial piss-posts
past whispers in the closets
Past screaming from the roof tops
We live to survive our paradoxes
We'll live to survive our paradoxes

Men here of the secret
they pass upholstered silence
They only exist in crisis
they only exist in silence
Past territorial piss-posts
past whispers in the closets
Past screaming from the roof tops
We live to survive our paradoxes
We'll live to survive our paradoxes

"Springtime in Vienna"
by The Tragically Hip

C:)

I, like the view, still said...

lovely! (it's great how words do that. . .)