Belgian Bar
Composer(s): Eric Andersen
Performer(s): Eric Andersen



One snowy night alone in my house in Norway 
I sat with pen, paper, and guitar and a candle by an old wood table 
I felt a canopy in the air and the feeling of being somewhere else 
I started to remember a time when I was with a close friend a couple years before 
We had been in Brussels working on a film score together 
and we had many good evenings hanging out in this ancient city in the middle of Europe 
And this evening it came rushing back 
As if I had stumbled into a cathedral of memory 
After we finished the project we took a train to France 
I went on to Venice and it was right before Christmas
We were living in a nice hotel on the avenue Louise 
Working on a project there it was just my man and me 
I was unattached back then like a puppet off his feet 
A crazy pile of broken strings only one I had to keep 
We walked around the corner saw the lights of a little bar 
The mood there made me curious a chance to forget 
Awhile inside a couple of tables a couple rock 'n roll cassettes 
I was drinking rum that night with the barmaid speaking French 
I wonder just how things have changed 
I wonder where you are 
And I wonder if a young French girl 
Still works in a Belgian bar 

Brussels in October the yellow gray's all I recall 
The rain ran on forever like the wires on a trolley car 
Walking down the new wet streets ancient wind blowin through my heart 
The only face I couldn't see was the face of my true love 
I dreamed about the lights of Nice the rust rocks of the coast 
I dreamed about a frozen path to the one I missed the most 
Then I guess it wasn't long before I was on my feet again 
It must have happened someplace quiet cause I don't remember when 

I wonder just how things have changed 
I wonder where you are 
And I wonder if a young French girl 
Still works in a Belgian bar 

When I look over my shoulder from the window of my train 
I think about my man again who I heard has moved to Spain 
We worked hard and we traveled some through France and Italy 
When it rained down hard in Brussels it poured on you and me 
And when my eyes got tangled in the honey colored hair 
Of the girl ho poured the drinks that night when we were talkin there 
She had eyes that seemed to drink us up and a crooked little smile 
When we sailed off for the starry night and forever took a little while