| I lit a thin green candle to make you jealous of me
|
| But the room just filled up with mosquitos
|
| They heard that my body was free
|
| Then I took the dust
|
| Of a long sleepless night
|
| And I put it in your little shoe
|
| And then I confess
|
| That I tortured the dress
|
| That you wore for the world to look through
|
| I showed my heart to the doctor
|
| He said I just have to quit
|
| Then he wrote himself a prescription and your name was mentioned in it!
|
| Then he locked himself
|
| In a library shelf
|
| With the details of our honeymoon
|
| And I hear from the nurse
|
| That he’s gotten much worse
|
| And his practice is all in a ruin
|
| I heard of a saint who had loved you
|
| So I studied all night in his school
|
| He taught that the duty of lovers is to tarnish the golden rule
|
| And just when I was sure
|
| That his teachings were pure
|
| He drowned himself in the pool
|
| His body is gone
|
| But back here on the lawn
|
| His spirit continues to drool
|
| An Eskimo showed me a movie he’d recently taken of you
|
| The poor man could hardly stop shivering
|
| His lips and his fingers were blue
|
| I suppose that he froze
|
| When the wind took your clothes
|
| And I guess he just never got warm
|
| But you stand there so nice
|
| In your blizzard of ice
|
| Oh please let me come into the storm |