Myra, Play the Piano

Verse 1

The walls are completely bare, the masterpieces gone,

Packed away in Welsh caves before the blitz hit dawn.

Trafalgar Square is bleeding, the sirens start to wail,

A city under siege, beneath a iron hail.

But stepping through the rubble, past the sandbags and the grime,

Eight hundred Londoners arrive exactly on time.

Chorus

Oh, Myra, play the piano, lift the blackout from our eyes,

Drown out the sound of the bombs in the skies!

For a shilling and a sandwich, we can sit here in the grey,

And let the ghost of Beethoven wash the terror away.

They can shatter our brick, they can burn down the West End,

But as long as you play, Myra... London won't bend.

Verse 2

A soldier sits next to a clerk, their shoulders tightly pressed,

With plaster dust on every coat and courage in each chest.

The windows start to rattle, the ceiling begins to shake,

She doesn't drop a single note, her fingers never quake.

She coaxes out a melody so elegant and deep,

It cradles every broken heart and puts the fear to sleep.

Chorus

Oh, Myra, play the piano, lift the blackout from our eyes,

Drown out the sound of the bombs in the skies!

For a shilling and a sandwich, we can sit here in the grey,

And let the ghost of Beethoven wash the terror away.

They can shatter our brick, they can burn down the West End,

But as long as you play, Myra... London won't bend.

Verse 3

Down in the Tuscan Room, Lady Gater takes charge,

Where the queue for a tea is incredibly large.

With Joyce Grenfell slicing up loaves in a rush,

Through the rattle of teacups and the audience hush.

They spread honey and raisin, cream cheese and date,

Serving comfort and hope on a chipped willow plate—

"A sandwich made famous," the volunteers tell,"

To perfectly complement Bach and Ravel.

"For a few pennies saved from the threat of the air,

They're feeding the soul of Trafalgar Square.

Bridge

Six days a week, six long years of war,

The greatest art in England wasn't hanging anymore.

It was sitting at the keyboard, in a simple woolen dress,

Defying Adolf Hitler with a lunchtime concert press!

Verse 4

The Stratton Quartet starts a Beethoven phrase,

When a high-explosive bomb sets the plaster ablaze.

The room fills with smoke, but the violin strings

Keep chasing the light that the harmony brings—

Not a single beat missed as the ceiling falls down,

They play through the fire for the heart of the town.

And when a Nazi doodlebug buzzes o'erhead,

Myra hits a crescendo to mask it with dread,

Drowning out engines of terror and doom,

With a Schubert impromptu that rings through the room.

Outro

The final chord is struck.

Silence fills the stone.

Then a thunderous applause...

And we walk back out alone.