Strange Times In Casablanca – John Cale

Strange times in Casablanca when people pull down their shades
And its easy enough for us to look at each other and wonder why
We were to blame
Blame comes remorselessly transfixed
Like the sound of slamming doors
And doors have doors have doors have doors have doors
Like companions have pets they sleep in each other’s mattresses
Like maggots in despair
And bleed in each other’s nests and make a mess of each other’s snares
Strange times in Casablanca
Strange times

They make some striking couples
They make some frustration of the call
And only those who are satisfied by friendship would even pay attention to it all
It comes like mail or telegrams…

It comes expectant as a widow in heat, as a widow in the searing heat
And that contentment of depression that delivers most of the time
But cannot help the styling of the horns in the shape of gargoyle!
Broken prints savage fingers! Undertaken catamaran!
Broken prints savage fingers! Undertaken catamaran!

Strange times in Casablanca
We’ve turned our back on it once before
And we can hear from across the waters what damage it will cause us once more
And you can smash once more
And they can smash once more…

But I don’t think anybody wants to smash anymore