Ian Anderson
The Little Flower Girl
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204 кбит/c
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3:36
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| Добавлена 20 февраля 2008 пользователем AND1 |
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Текст песни The Little Flower Girl
Down at the church the flower girl sits. Legs innocent, apart.
I make the picture puzzle fit to start your heart.
Painted sister stopped beside. A word upon her saintly lip.
Perhaps admonishing the child inside the open slip.
I dont know where she might go when she runs home at night.
Its for the best: I wouldnt rest when I turned out the light.
No little flower girl singing in my troubled dream
just an old mans model in a pose from a magazine.
I have touched that face a dozen times before. And I have let my pencil run.
Laid down washes on a foreign shore, under a hot and foreign sun.
My best sable brushes drift the soft inside of her arm.
Her chin I tilt, her breasts I lift. I mean no harm.
I close the door. She is no more until the next appointed hour.
Northeastern light push back the night: painted promises in store.
No little flower girl singing in my troubled dream
just an old mans model in a pose from a magazine.
Down at the church my flower girl sits. Legs innocent, apart.
I make the picture puzzle fit to start your heart.
My golden sable brushes drift the soft inside of her arm.
Her chin I tilt, her breasts I lift. I mean no harm.
I mean no harm. I mean??
[ The Little Flower Girl Lyrics ]
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