Casablanca Lyrics

"Casablanca"
By Tom Rapp

The man with the shadows
On his face sits in a chair
Calls the cobwebs lace
Behind his painted smile
The desert looms
For miels
In Casablanca


In the millhouse
Another man spirals round
Now and then and after
He drinks from a pitcher
Of warm spit, but it's his
So it doesn't matter
In Casablanca

The boys in the blue brass choir
Sing old tunes
With their boots
And a heavy beat
And when the song is done
Jesus lies bleeding in the streets
Of Casablanca