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Up In the Garret

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Up In the Garret

 
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Up In the Garret Defarge

Up in the garret we conceal



A man who has done his time.

Seventeen years in the bastille.

But no one can name his crime.

He was a simple country doctor

Called on to aid a girl in need

Beaten and raped

And left to bleed

Nothing the doctor would do could save her life

Nor her young brother who fell defending her

And the two noblemen who had done this crime

Only the doctor could say just who they were.

These two aristocrats had hoped

The doctor could cure their crime

Now with the two young victims dead

They sinned a foul second time

Fearing that he'd reveal their shame

They gauranteed he'd lay no blame!

Seventeen years in a cell without a trial

Seventeen years we have tried to learn their name

I was his servant; a boy of eighteen.

I can remember when he dissappeared

I search in vain for the truth of his fate

He had gone there to do good

Gone to help someone in need

No kindness was ever repaid with so deadly a deed!

He's free now but still in chains

Dr. Manette's lost his mind

He rambles on about

Some paper he must find

Written so long ago

Hidden behind his cell wall

That paper is the proof of things he can't recall

I'll find that note one day the day the bastille falls!

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