| She has dancer’s legs
|
| And eyes that glow like Mexico
|
| And she moves like fireflies
|
| Through Jackson Pollack southern skies
|
| She’s falling like dominoes
|
| Where she lands nobody knows
|
| Her hair rolls like waterfalls
|
| Or golden tears she never shows
|
| She is counting on lunar rings
|
| Though she’s never been one for astronomy
|
| She is shivering in the northern wind
|
| She is begging, begging to begin
|
| She’s counting lunar rings
|
| Though she’s never been one for astronomy
|
| She’s shivering in the wind
|
| Begging, begging to begin
|
| She’s been six years on the road
|
| In search of Jericho
|
| She’s taken refuge
|
| In a vision of Calypso
|
| She lost her lover
|
| Who was both forbidden and estranged
|
| She charts the planets
|
| To see if things will ever change
|
| She is counting on lunar rings
|
| Though she’s never been one for astronomy
|
| She is shivering in the northern wind
|
| She is begging, begging to begin
|
| She’s counting lunar rings
|
| Though she’s never been one for astronomy
|
| She’s shivering in the wind
|
| Begging, begging to begin |