Act One Lyrics

Welcome to the Devil's nightclub act one

An eerie tapestry hung on the wall

Dark reds greens and purples blended together

In a mysterious howl of perplexing intoxication

I started to lose myself in its black charm

The museum was getting quiet

And I thought I heard someone announce that it was closing in five minutes

I tried to leave but I could not move

My feet felt as if they were immersed in a drying section of concrete sidewalk

I stood there with my hands on my hips and I was sucked into the woven threads

I found myself walking slowly down a back street

In the French Quarter on a hot August night

I could hear the revelry from a few streets over

Echoing through the alleys but here it was quiet

I had my hands in my pockets and was kicking an empty beer can down the street

I glanced up at a third story window where a candle was burning

And incense was wafting through the screen

Shadows were moving inside

Other candles flickered from across the room

I heard a crash and the sounds of bits of broken glass hitting a hardwood floor

I kicked the can again

A slight gust of wind blew over my head

And the candles were no longer burning when I glanced back up at the window

The street seemed even quieter now

I took my hands out of my pockets and I lit a cigarette

I opened the back door of a room that was vibrating

With the sensual sounds of subdued jazz

It was a dimly lit bar filled with cigarette and cigar smoke

I think that I was the only white person there

I ordered a shot of tequila

I found a table in the corner and started scribbling some notes on a napkin

It was getting pretty late probably two or three in the morning

When I smelled the strong scent of exotic perfume

I looked up from my twelfth napkin

And saw a beautiful young dark skinned woman sitting across the table from me

He'll be here any minute

She said with a nervous shiver of anticipation

Who?

I asked somewhat intrigued

But at the same time annoyed that she had interrupted my thoughts

You know him

She responded almost breathless

It's Saturday night and he almost always stops here on Saturday night

I was about to pursue this a bit further

When for the first time since I had walked in the door the music stopped

The heavy man at the piano took his cigarette out of his mouth

Poured a shot of whisky down his throat

And leaned over until his lips were touching the microphone

The entire club fell silent

You could have heard a cockroach crawling across a sponge

But even the cockroaches had become motionless

And then in a low raspy voice the man at the piano muttered

He's here

A short skinny bearded man in a white robe came out of the men's room

Grabbed a small acoustic guitar from behind the bar

And stepped up onto the stage

The tall thin sax player slid a small beat up chair across the stage towards him

He sat down with the guitar planted in his lap

Still there was not a sound

Who is this guy?

I thought

And why isn't anyone applauding?

The bar manager set a single microphone in the middle of the stage

And then the little man began to play

Slow jazz at first

So quiet and soft that I was amazed I could even hear it

Every note every chord was clear and magical

The music began to build and become more complex

It grew louder and he started swaying in his chair

His head started to bob and I could see sweat flying from his hairy face

The band started to fill in the background and when he started to sing

The entire bar leapt to its feet and began screaming and applauding

By the time the song finished all hell was breaking loose

And the woman across the table from me had tears streaming down her face

I made my way over to the bar and asked the bartender for another shot

He looked at me kind of funny and said

The bar's closed man

The bar is closed

Quiet he's gonna play another one

As suddenly as the place had erupted into mayhem it became silent again

The man on the stage played a slow ballad

And when he got to the refrain the whole crowd started singing along

I looked at the bartender and screamed

Everybody seems to know this one

He snapped back at me

No man this is a new one

Shut up and sing

The band kept playing

Everyone was singing

I had to find out who this guy was

I made my way up to the stage and found the chair empty

He had already left but they were finishing the song anyway

By the time the song ended people were kissing each other

Hugging each other crying on each other's shoulders

It was the strangest sight I'd ever seen

I was standing by the jukebox

I watching the club empty out

When somebody tapped me on the shoulder and said

Hey man it's closing time

We've got to clear the room

I turned around and found myself looking

Straight into the chest of a seven foot tall security guard

He said come on man the museum is closed

It's time to go home

He walked me to the front door and he locked it as I left

On the steps of the museum a frail young afro american woman

Who sat there in tears holding her face in her hands

Pieces of broken glass were embedded in her feet

I sat down next to her and offered her a cigarette

As she wiped the tears off of her face and stared at the moon

I noticed that she smelled incredibly familiar

She looked over at me and muttered

Thanks

I took her hand in mine and whispered

Don't worry

He's coming

He'll be here

It's Saturday night

He almost always stops here on Saturday night

Last call