"The Heat of the Hunt" genre: Folk
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	The lilting poetry of Viola Weinberg's Paris set to the haunting music of William Fuller. C'est formidable.
	CD: W E E   Label: dRAW PiNKY's 7th Planet Credits: Words by Viola Weinberg (© V. Weinberg), Music by William Fuller
	Story Behind the Song The song says it all . . . Lyrics The wet streets of Paris in sultry June Walking among cafes at night A sea of black sweaters and night bain shoes Just before the goodbye Writing songs at midnight on the Pont Neuf With a thick cigarette between my fingers A gossamer ribbon in your cinnamon hair The memory - Ah - how it lingers Lights were blinking on the quay beside The Seine singing below A little crystal mirror for dancing drunken sailors The riffs of ricochet saxophones They were singing from the Metro in the earth Gentle breeze and fluttering scarf Float like xylophone butter from my throat to my shoulders A silk flag just above my heart I wandered on inhaling the musk of beautiful whores in their doorways Noting the men in the heat of the hunt Sniffing up hemlines and hallways They were drooling from the corners of absinthe crusted cracks Night laughter booming but shallow Like handfuls of fingers on harps made of glass Like necks yearning for lips on the gallows Then silence and stones and rugs and bones And the ripe moon in the sky A deserted bench by a groaning barge Just before the goodbye

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