Honoré

Honoré's huddled near East Fifty-Third
His life in a pile not too far from the curb
It's come down to this place, but he's not deterred
Honoré huddled near East Fifty-Third

Honoré sits on the lower east side
He's lost about everything except for his pride
A man with a vision, the vision's denied
Honoré sits on the lower east side

They used to say Honoré wasn't all there
He'd a penchant for speeches and thousand-yard stares
They said that he'd fought when some half-breeds rebelled
Sometimes he would weep and he'd whisper "Riel"

Honoré's buried in some pauper's grave
Of his archives there wasn't much left to be saved
Fourty-nine boxes of books hauled away
And a deed for some land in a place called Duck Lake

Honoré was all he said so it seems
The last act of life left him far from his dreams
They took it away it can't be redeemed
Honoré as all he said so it seems

They used to say Honoré wasn't all there
He'd a penchant for speeches and thousand-yard stares
They said that he'd fought when some half-breeds rebelled
Sometimes he would weep and he'd whisper "Riel"
Sometimes he would weep and he'd whisper "Riel"