Lucy's Sentimental Song
When Lucy shows up for work, she notes with a smile that the audience has filled out since the gates were opened to the general public. It is still early in the evening, and people are still making connections - drifting to another's table with admiring words, murmuring low with a companion just met. Lucy decides that a little music would start the evening off well, before she starts stripping out of her pretty costumes. The one she's got on is simple but elegant: lacy blue lingerie sewn with a few glinting seed pearls, with a slender velvet choker or collar to match.
"Good evening, everyone!" she says brightly to her soon-to-be fans. "I'd like to sing for you a song that I've just written - the love song of a cat for a dearly-missed person. I've decided to call it 'Lonely Pu$$y.'" (She sometimes has a bit of an accent, especially saying feline-related words which are pronounced differently in her native tongue.) The band takes her cue, and a small quartet strikes up the melody she had handed them earlier.
She has tremendous feeling in her voice, a clear low alto, as she begins to sing:
"My darling, it has seemed so long
Since you walked out, since you've been gone
All I can do is sigh, and long
for you -
And think that no one loves me like you do.
I walk the hallways here alone,
I wish I knew when you'd come home
I feel like I'll be all alone
for good -
You aren't here to love me like you should.
The pillowcase still smells like you,
Your perfume lingers, reminds me too
How I would lie in bed with you,
my dear -
I remember how you used to pet my hair.
I feel as though it's been a week
Since you smiled at me and stroked my cheek,
You'd hold me close when I felt weak
and worn -
I remember how you used to keep me warm.
Will you be back tomorrow
to free me from my sorrow?
I can't wake up tomorrow
without you -
I remember all the things we used to do.
So I curl up on your sweater -
Wishing just, that things were better
Wishing you would wear that sweater
and hold me -
I remember, that's the way it used to be."
She ends with a graceful pirouhette that takes her down to her knees, arms clasped around them, looking soulful. She imagines what she would feel if Faye abandoned her, and that is enough to make her lovely eyes large and wet, companion to her trembling smile. She holds the grief for a second, two, and then -
Springing to her hands in an exuberant flip, an acrobatic routine. She won't be still, at rest, for the full twenty minutes of this performance. The band gives way to hand drummers and wild pan flutes. She will fly like a bird on her trapeze, she will shimmy up her silk rope, she will dangle and tumble and pounce and spin. And by the time she comes back to them in her next outfit, the golden gauze of an Egyptian love-goddess, they will have forgotten their sorrows entirely.
When Lucy shows up for work, she notes with a smile that the audience has filled out since the gates were opened to the general public. It is still early in the evening, and people are still making connections - drifting to another's table with admiring words, murmuring low with a companion just met. Lucy decides that a little music would start the evening off well, before she starts stripping out of her pretty costumes. The one she's got on is simple but elegant: lacy blue lingerie sewn with a few glinting seed pearls, with a slender velvet choker or collar to match.
"Good evening, everyone!" she says brightly to her soon-to-be fans. "I'd like to sing for you a song that I've just written - the love song of a cat for a dearly-missed person. I've decided to call it 'Lonely Pu$$y.'" (She sometimes has a bit of an accent, especially saying feline-related words which are pronounced differently in her native tongue.) The band takes her cue, and a small quartet strikes up the melody she had handed them earlier.
She has tremendous feeling in her voice, a clear low alto, as she begins to sing:
"My darling, it has seemed so long
Since you walked out, since you've been gone
All I can do is sigh, and long
for you -
And think that no one loves me like you do.
I walk the hallways here alone,
I wish I knew when you'd come home
I feel like I'll be all alone
for good -
You aren't here to love me like you should.
The pillowcase still smells like you,
Your perfume lingers, reminds me too
How I would lie in bed with you,
my dear -
I remember how you used to pet my hair.
I feel as though it's been a week
Since you smiled at me and stroked my cheek,
You'd hold me close when I felt weak
and worn -
I remember how you used to keep me warm.
Will you be back tomorrow
to free me from my sorrow?
I can't wake up tomorrow
without you -
I remember all the things we used to do.
So I curl up on your sweater -
Wishing just, that things were better
Wishing you would wear that sweater
and hold me -
I remember, that's the way it used to be."
She ends with a graceful pirouhette that takes her down to her knees, arms clasped around them, looking soulful. She imagines what she would feel if Faye abandoned her, and that is enough to make her lovely eyes large and wet, companion to her trembling smile. She holds the grief for a second, two, and then -
Springing to her hands in an exuberant flip, an acrobatic routine. She won't be still, at rest, for the full twenty minutes of this performance. The band gives way to hand drummers and wild pan flutes. She will fly like a bird on her trapeze, she will shimmy up her silk rope, she will dangle and tumble and pounce and spin. And by the time she comes back to them in her next outfit, the golden gauze of an Egyptian love-goddess, they will have forgotten their sorrows entirely.