eye of the day

Eye Of The Day

Eye Of The Day - 5:23
They called me Margaretha the day that I was born.
The day I died the soldiers called me H21.
In the circuses and palaces, a hundred names I’ve borne,
From the Belle of the Epoque to eye of the storm,
But if anybody asks, I named myself after the sun.

I was a teacher when I was young,
But I ran away from home
To the East Indies and warm, warm sun,
To wed a man I did not know.
He called me Lady McCleod,
But the times did not allow
My complaints as drinking dragged him down.
So in dancing peace I found.

They called me a tourist when I began to dance,
An amateur and courtesan when I came to France.
On the stages, in the salons, I held my tongue:
I was never owned by any man nor known by anyone.
And if anybody asks, I named myself after the sun.

I never cared much for their war.
I had seen men fight before,
Seen the sickness in their esprit de corps.
I would dance for them no more.
They came to take me away
From the Hotel Champs Elysée.
Told the soldiers I’d nothing to say –
They wouldn’t have listened anyway.
Too many men had died, and somebody had to pay.
They set a date for my dying day.

But as I stood in that killing field, refusing a blindfold,
Staring down the soldiers and the hatred of the world,
I felt the warmth of the Malay sun and I smiled for them all:
They all thought they had the best of me,
But not one of them could say what I was called.

Just before the darkness came,
I whispered my real name.
I am Mata Hari, eye of the day.
In the cells my body lay unclaimed.

If anybody asks, I named myself after the sun.

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