My Melissa, Child of Light

{Em}I first heard her straining {Am}sweetly, one New {B7}Orleans rainy {Em}night,

Like the river steaming {Am}through my French doors {B7}out to Royal {Em}Street.

I {Am}hardly heard her {Em}through my drunken {Am}stupor, shining {Em}bright.

Still, I {B7}knew she was my {Am}angel, my Me{B7}lissa, {Am}child of {Em}light.

My Me{Am}lissa,{B7} child of {Em}light.

She sang out the fear and {Am}longing, made a {B7}chant of being {Em}brave,

Made the devil be her {Am}partner, killing {B7}all the pain he {Em}gave,

From her {Am}hunger made sweet {Em}lightning, shining {Am}garlands of the {Em}night.

So I {B7}saw she was my {Am}angel, my Me{B7}lissa,{Am} child of {Em}light.

My Me{Am}lissa,{B7} child of {Em}light.

We take her small sweet glowing {Am}body beating {B7}out those rhythmic {Em}chords,

Turning wishes to ad{Am}ventures reigning {B7}like Teutonic {Em}lords,

Turning {Am}leaves of love for{Em}gotten into {Am}sunbeams for the {Em}fight.

Yes, I {B7}see she is my {Am}angel, my Me{B7}lissa,{Am} child of {Em}light.

My Me{Am}lissa,{B7} child of {Em}light.

And so I and Angel{Am}ina ride our {B7}famous charging {Em}steed,

With the banners of my {Am}heros carved u{B7}pon a hollow {Em}reed,

As from a {Am}window in New {Em}Orleans, still I {Am}wonder at the {Em}sight.

So, I {B7}see she is my {Am}angel, my Me{B7}lissa,{Am} child of {Em}light.

My Me{Am}lissa,{B7} child of {Em}light.