From the recording A Murder Of Prose
Lyrics
She comes to me in visions, in visions at night
Like an angel draped in white
Do my eye’s deceive me or is she heaven sent
Not an ounce of effort seems to have been spent
Oh and with the flick of her wrist
She traces the outline of my lips
How can it be that she knows me so well
Could it be that light that burns inside
It’s hard to tell
She comes to me in daylight without a word
Communicates through fire yet every word is heard
Eyes that search into the depths of my soul
Her age eludes me she seems both young and old
Oh and with the flick of her wrist
She traces the outline of my lips
How can it be that she knows me so well
Could it be that light that burns inside
It’s hard to tell
Will you wake me when you come around
I’ve grown weary of this little town
Throughout the years will you stick around
Always looking never have I found
Sometimes I can’t see her so I call out her name
Into the darkness where it all looks the same
Waiting for the slightest, the slightest of sounds
Some sort of reply, something to be found
Oh and with the flick of her wrist
She traces the outline of my lips
How can it be that she knows me so well
Could it be that light that burns inside
It’s hard to tell
Will you wake me when you come around
I’ve grown weary of this little town
Throughout the years will you stick around
Always looking never have I found
A love quite like yours
One that throughout the years will endure
Any hardships that might come our way
I will love you for the rest of your days