Fragments of Noir

Tuesday, 22 September 2015

He walks away

The sun goes down

He takes the day, but i'm grown

And in your way

In this blue shade

My tears dry on their own

Tears Dry on Their Own

(Winehouse/Simpson/Ashford)

Amy Winehouse

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Frank Paulin
Chicago 1952

fragments of noir: 'It was one of those hot dry Santa Annas that come down thru the mountain passes and curl your hair and make your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that every booze party ends in a fight. Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husbands' necks. Anything can happen. You can even get a full glass of beer at a cocktail lounge. ............ Red Wind- Raymond Chandler

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