In a ballroom at the belfry, where swans all sit and stare, There was an young girl they called Jocelyn and Jocelyn was
everywhere

A brooklyn heart and ballroom soul a wanderer in full flight, she’d sing Ave Maria to Brooklyn to at night

A footloose queen and a transient rose, and an Orphan of Ireland
The world loved Jocelyn this queen of Long Island

She understood the river of life and she understood this young.
She understood the darker parts in the songs that she sung.

And she travelled travelled travelled through the United States
of America, looking for some galliant heart this wandering evangelical

And she could bring you down down down She could spin you all around around round Make you disappear

All the city lights in Dublin and the storm clouds in Clare they’re calling out to America and all she has there All her wolves cry for Jocelyn and her wings to take flight But she sings Ave Maria to Brooklyn at night.

All the cellos seemed to follow her like the neon lights on Bowery, there was energy in the streets a new music called R’nB.

The perpetuated post war rise brought a social class arpeggio
And they all had refrigerators and Jocelyn had a radio.

The Beatles, Dylan and the Rolling Stones, changed the music there for a century,

Jocelyn said a prayer when they shot John F Kennedy

An Irish soul, a marxist priest and orphan called Bethany At a bedsit by McCarren Park by Williamsburg and Broadway

Her scarlett stains cross an August sky drew her sadness and screaming, a real darkness in those Irish eyes and nobody could see in

All the city lights in Dublin and the storm clouds in Clare they’re calling out to America and all she has there All her wolves cry for Jocelyn and her wings to take flight But she sings Ave Maria to Brooklyn at night.
She sings Ave Maria to Brooklyn at night

A tremendous scream from the bedsit screen woke the sisters
of Mercy.
They took her cold body to the Columbia infirmary.

And she could bring you down down down She could spin you all around around round Make you disappear

All the city lights in Dublin and the storm clouds in Clare they’re calling out to America and all she has there All her wolves cry for Jocelyn and her wings to take flight But she sings Ave Maria to Brooklyn tonight.
But she sings Ave Maria to Brooklyn tonight.


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