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Up in the Garret

Monsieur Defarge:
Up in the garret we conceal
A man who has done his time
Seventeen years in the Bastille
But no one can name his crime.
He was a simple country doctor,
Called on to aid a girl in need--
Beaten and raped
And left to bleed.

Nothing the doctor could do could save her life
Nor her young brother who fell defending her
And the two noblemen who had done this crime
Only the doctor could say just who they were.

These two aristocrats had hoped
The doctor could cure their crime
Now with the two young victims dead
They sinned a foul second time:
Fearing that he'd reveal their shame
They guaranteed he'd lay no blame.

Seventeen years in a cell without a trial!
Seventeen years we have tried to learn their names.

I was his servant, a boy of eighteen
I can remember when he disappeared
I searched in vain for the truth of his fate
He had gone there to do good
Gone to help someone in need
No kindness was ever repaid with so deadly a deed!

He's free now but still in chains
Doctor Manette's lost his mind
He rambles on about
Some paper he must find
Written so long ago
Hidden behind his cell wall
I'll find that note one day
The day the Bastille falls,
The day the Bastille falls!

Postat de Ravariel la Sâmbătă, 18/02/2012 - 20:02

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