Madeleine Peyroux

Every night he'd come to me
I'd cook for him, I'd pour his tea
I was in my thirties then
Had made some money, lived with men
We'd lay us down to give and get
Beneath the white mosquito net
And since no counting had begun
We lived a thousand years in one
The candles burned
The moon went down
The polished hill
The milky town
Transparent, weightless, luminous