Miss Drake is the song I prefer among the ones I wrote and published in my album New Day. Obviously every song in the album is connected to my world, my life, my dreams, but Miss Drake is particularly involving. 

I wrote Miss Drake while in London, after buying a Sylvia Plath anthology, edited by her husband Ted Hughes. While I was reading her poems, for the first time in English, I also discovered her diaries. 

One night I grabbed my guitar and, as useful, I started experimenting with chords. The chords sequence that got my attention reminded me of two poems I had read the day before: Miss Drake Proceeds to Supper and Spinster. One hit me with its melancholy in describing Miss Drake’s troubled world; the other one hit me with is veiled feminism and the poet’s affirmation of independence (And round her house she set/Such a barricade of barb and check/Against mutinous weather/As no mere insurgent man could hope to break/With curse, fist, threat/Or love, either). 

 

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I decided to turn troubled Miss Drake into a strong and independent woman, whose aim is freedom (She is screaming, she is crying, she is hoping/Thinking “Why can’t I be free?”), but without deceiving her restless personality and loneliness (She is screaming, she is crying, she is hoping/Thinking “Oh, I am so alone”). 

My aim wasn’t to write a song full of explicit literary references, but simply to indulge in the inspiration triggered by those poems. 

And what about you? Who is your favorite poet? Which poem moves you?

Lyrics:

What's the game to play? 
Miss Drake, waiting for her man. 
She is screaming, she is crying, she is hoping, 
thinking: "Why can't I be free?". 

What's the dream to lose? 
Miss Drake, waiting for sunrise. 
She is screaming, she is crying, she is hoping, 
thinking: "Why am I still alone?". 

What's the truth to hide? 
Miss Drake, waiting for midnight. 
She is lying, she is crying, she is hoping, 
thinking: "Why can't I touch the sky?" 

What's the train to catch? 
Miss Drake, waiting for her friend. 
She is lying, she is crying, she is hoping, 
thinking: "Oh, I am still alone". 

"What a nice surprise. 
Nests of birds and butterflies. 
Spinning like my head 
in a morning paradise." 

What's the dice to shoot? 
Miss, still waiting for the truth. 
She is playing, she is smiling, she is hoping, 
thinking: "Oh I am so alone".