If you could paint her, she'd be a pica**o
She's got a few things out of place
Like when she smiles, it's slightly out of line
It's half awkward, yet half grace
While you're unraveling this mystery
Of where she fits in time and space
She'll drag you into this lover's tale
Though she will not give a reason
And if you fight her tooth and nail
She won't give up until you lose...
She wants the last word, the last dance
She thinks it's absurd that you believe in second chances
You're a lost cause, yet here she is
And that's the mystery. here she is...
She's a poem by ferlinghetti
She's the angel from a nursery rhyme
She'll set you a place at your table
Then fill your cup till you're drunk on red wine
She don't believe in stars or in miracles
But she reads your horoscope daily
And if your response is too cynical
She'll say, "who are you to know? "
While you're unraveling this mystery
Of where she fits in time and space
She'll memorize your history
And decorate your place