Madeline

In an old house in Paris, covered in vines
Lived a girl by the name of Madeline
She was not afraid of spiders or mice
Madeline loved winter, snow and ice
She watched from her window, onto the street below
The soldiers and the ladies stopped to say hello
They asked for her pleasure, be it whiskey or plain
But there’s no need for drink to take away that kind of pain
And in the middle of the night, Madeline would reach for her bedside light
Saying something is not right
And wearing a face as pale as ash
She’d sit and watch the raindrops fall and splash
Then she would turn to rest once more
And like all good children watch no more