Madeleine

You ask which way to go, it’s not the heat, nothing beats your show, that’s what others say, their flowers stay sweet, even after rain, you are like a warm glow, brown and sixty three, soothes any wind blowing cold, but you won’t sing today, like early April's leaves, nothing disturbs your sway, just the yellow glue, poverty turned to dreams, eats into hot summer days, don't let the doom crew, try to make it seem, you only play Blues, you're much more real.