Ruben Garcia


Written: 1988
Released: 2001 on 'The Ballad Of Ruben Garcia'

Notes: Inspired by a story by the French
author Marguerite Duras, 'Ten Thirty on a Summer's
Evening'. The murderer in her book is called Rodrigo
Paestra, and originally I had used the same name in
my song, but decided to change it as my story is different
to hers. Ruben Garcia was a friend of mine when I lived
in France, so I used his name instead. You can see a
picture of him on the gallery page.



The midday sun burns white
A seeting weight of heat
Drips across the silent rooves
And lies thick in the street
Everyone sweats and sleeps
And all but for a child
Crying in the savage heat
Is quiet and nothing moves
And in the market square
Alone a dog lies panting there
Abandoned to the sun

And outside the town
Down by the little stream
Hidden by the willow trees
A body sways in the breeze
Oh and his eyes still stare
Though his bloodied hands are cold
And all is quiet on the slope
Save the creaking of the rope
The rope that hangs Ruben Garcia
The rope that offers him to the sun
While at home his wife lies in bed
With a lover beside her and blood on her head


And you killed her Ruben Garcia
For some boneless affair for some fillet of love
I know you loved her Ruben Garcia
But did you really think that could ever be enough?
Oh and the sun beats down so hard
You'd swear it could burn the very rocks themselves
Oh and the world moves on
Living forgiving and lying and dying and
Oh but the truth is the same
To love is to give and to give is a dangerous gane
For if a man would laugh at love
How often that laughter will ripple like tears
And if a man would cry for love
Then best he cry quickly than throw away all those years
As I have thrown them away
But that story will keep well enough for another day

For there in the little room
On the bed two bodies lie
He still seems to hide his face
She stares blindly into space
Oh and as a gentle breeze
Wafts the curtains by
The only noise is the crickets click
And the clocks down stairs that softly tick
The clocks he made Ruben Garcia
The clocks he made to time their love
The hours the days the times the ways
The clocks he made to pay for her love


And you killed her Ruben Garcia
For some boneless affair for some fillet of love
I know you loved her Ruben Garcia
But did you really think that could ever be enough?

Oh and the sun beats down so hard
You'd swear it could melt the very rocks themselves
Oh and the world moves on
Living forgiving and lying and dying and
Oh but the truth is the same
To love is to give and to give is a dangerous game
For if a woman is a beautiful flower
How often that fruit is so bitter to taste
If you pay with love or just by the hour
Well you only learn from the time that you waste
And oh well I have to say I had her too
But you know what men will do for love Ruben Garcia
Better than most you know what men will do
As you swing hanging there
Taut and tight and dead
As a distant church bell says
They won't have found them yet
Still she lies cold and bare
His face a mask of shock
As their blood slowly dries
Upon the bedroom clock
And still the dog lies in the square
Half asleep but still aware
Of the lizards playing there
In the crumbling fountain wall

© Philip Jeays 1988
Philip Jeays © Sean K

Released April 18th 2016 Take The Slow Train album

© Philip Jeays 2011-2016