"Madame George" as written by and Van Morrison....
Down on Cyprus Avenue
With a childlike vision leaping into view
Clicking, clacking of the high heeled shoe
Ford and Fitzroy, Madame George
Marching with the soldier boy behind
He's much older now with hat on drinking wine
And that smell of sweet perfume comes drifting through
The cool night air like Shalimar
And outside they're making all the stops
The kids out in the street collecting bottle-tops
Gone for cigarettes and matches in the shops
Happy taken Madame George
That's when you fall
Whoa, that's when you fall
Yeah, that's when you fall
When you fall into a trance
Sitting on a sofa playing games of chance
With your folded arms and history books
You glance into the eyes of Madame George
And you think you found the bag
You're getting weaker and your knees begin to sag
In a corner playing dominoes in drag
The one and only Madame George
And then from outside the frosty window raps
She jumps up and says, Lord, have mercy I think it's the cops
And immediately drops everything she gots
Down into the street below
And you know you gotta go
On that train from Dublin up to Sandy Row
Throwing pennies at the bridges down below
And the rain, hail, sleet, and snow
Say goodbye to Madame George
Dry your eye for Madame George
Wonder why for Madame George
And as you leave, the room is filled with music
Laughing, music, dancing, music all around the room
And all the little boys come around, walking away from it all
So cold, and as you're about to leave
She jumps up and says, hey love, you forgot your gloves
And the gloves to love, to love the gloves
To say goodbye to Madame George
Dry your eye for Madame George
Wonder why for Madame George
Dry your eyes for Madame George
Say goodbye in the wind and the rain on the back street
In the backstreet, in the back street
Say goodbye to Madame George
In the backstreet, in the back street, in the back street
Down home, down home in the back street
Gotta go, say goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Dry your eye, your eye, your eye, your eye, your eye
Say goodbye to Madame George
And the loves to love to love the love
Say goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Say goodbye goodbye, goodbye, goodbye to Madame George
Dry your eye for Madame George
Wonder why for Madame George
The love's to love, the love's to love, the love's to love
Say goodbye, goodbye
Get on the train
Get on the train, the train, the train
This is the train, this is the train
Whoa, say goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Get on the train, get on the train
With a childlike vision leaping into view
Clicking, clacking of the high heeled shoe
Ford and Fitzroy, Madame George
Marching with the soldier boy behind
He's much older now with hat on drinking wine
And that smell of sweet perfume comes drifting through
The cool night air like Shalimar
And outside they're making all the stops
The kids out in the street collecting bottle-tops
Gone for cigarettes and matches in the shops
Happy taken Madame George
That's when you fall
Whoa, that's when you fall
Yeah, that's when you fall
When you fall into a trance
Sitting on a sofa playing games of chance
With your folded arms and history books
You glance into the eyes of Madame George
And you think you found the bag
You're getting weaker and your knees begin to sag
In a corner playing dominoes in drag
The one and only Madame George
And then from outside the frosty window raps
She jumps up and says, Lord, have mercy I think it's the cops
And immediately drops everything she gots
Down into the street below
And you know you gotta go
On that train from Dublin up to Sandy Row
Throwing pennies at the bridges down below
And the rain, hail, sleet, and snow
Say goodbye to Madame George
Dry your eye for Madame George
Wonder why for Madame George
And as you leave, the room is filled with music
Laughing, music, dancing, music all around the room
And all the little boys come around, walking away from it all
So cold, and as you're about to leave
She jumps up and says, hey love, you forgot your gloves
And the gloves to love, to love the gloves
To say goodbye to Madame George
Dry your eye for Madame George
Wonder why for Madame George
Dry your eyes for Madame George
Say goodbye in the wind and the rain on the back street
In the backstreet, in the back street
Say goodbye to Madame George
In the backstreet, in the back street, in the back street
Down home, down home in the back street
Gotta go, say goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Dry your eye, your eye, your eye, your eye, your eye
Say goodbye to Madame George
And the loves to love to love the love
Say goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Say goodbye goodbye, goodbye, goodbye to Madame George
Dry your eye for Madame George
Wonder why for Madame George
The love's to love, the love's to love, the love's to love
Say goodbye, goodbye
Get on the train
Get on the train, the train, the train
This is the train, this is the train
Whoa, say goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Get on the train, get on the train
Lyrics submitted by yuri_sucupira, edited by domenicos, BenEden
"Madame George" as written by Van Morrison
Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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The narrator finds himself in the flat, a sort of speakeasy, with gambling, drinking, drugs and dancing on offer - and perhaps sex. The narrator is captivated by this outré character and her Bohemian life. It's a place to which he returns again and again. The song tells of two episodes from the flat: a police raid which results in Madame George throwing the drugs out of the window; and the final tearful goodbye, as the narrator leaves for a new life in Belfast.
The song is about a juvenile infatuation with someone fearlessly living a life which breaks all the rules, and a wistful reflection of adolescent freedom and possibility.
The picture he paints for me is of a transvestite, the archetypal outsider - outside of society and outside of gender. If he's painting an outsider, why not?
Personally, I felt more inclined to the idea of her being a prostitute. Am I the only one who took the "drag" line as meaning trannie, but that it is simply a girl wearing male clothing, perhaps just as a joke? Or maybe wearing some of her john's clothing, as they goof around afterwords? It reminds me of the whorehouse scenes in James Joyce's Ulysses. I do like the idea of it simply being "drag on a cigerette" though too. Regardless of all that, it is a haunting and sad song that makes me think of the things I left behind growing up.
"And you know you gotta go
On that train from Dublin up to Sandy Row" and not the other way. I think your other suggestions are equally wide of the mark and "iffy" to quote yourself - you are not the song!
Wait hold a second... why is this madame george a transvistite.... where is the proof to that. Lots of people have last names that start with George. I believe most times, it goes Madame/Monsieur (last name). Clarification please.
snobsnarl
Wait hold a second... why is this madame george a transvistite.... where is the proof to that. Lots of people have last names that start with George. I believe most times, it goes Madame/Monsieur (last name). Clarification please.
The action in the song takes place in Dublin - the swirling "the loves to love to love the love....." is sexual congress - don't see Van doing it with a tranny!!
btw - Michelle Rocca lives in Dublin - a premonition?
Van came south to Dublin long before it was fashionable - ahead of his time, as ever.
Wait hold a second... why is this madame george a transvistite.... where is the proof to that. Lots of people have last names that start with George. I believe most times, it goes Madame/Monsieur (last name). Clarification please.