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Constance, the night is beautiful,
If you could see it all from where I stand,
If I could catch its light,
I'd send it home to you,
Were it not for these shackles on my hands.
Oh, the tale I tell is of a loaded gun,
And another one who took your heart and soul,
Here inside this cell, they know me all too well,
Tho' my name is just a number on a roll.
Constance Constance
Constance, the moon's magnificent,
So reminiscent of your sweet face,
In my heart of hearts I am innocent,
But then again so is each man in this place.
And I am heartsore, and what is more,
I don't ever sleep from midnight until dawn,
I wake up in the dark to a pounding heart,
And the scream that dies inside the night is mine.
Constance Constance
Constance, the rain is falling now
Like a ghostly shroud the fog rolls in
As a common rule, it takes a special kind of fool
To find a drowning pool and fall in
Oh the tale I tell is of a loaded gun
And another one who took your heart and soul
Here inside this cell, they know me all too well
Tho' my name is just a number on a roll
Constance Constance Constance
Recorded by Ron Hynes (Standing In Line In the Rain, 1998).
