Pretty Things. She's a Lover. Zeneszám

She takes the moon and stars
To wear as her disguise
Then catching cosmic rays
She uses them for eyes

She's a lover
And you know she's coming through
She's a lover
And you know she's coming through

With warm breezes
She will wipe away the sigh
In the green folds of her skirt
A tired traveler lies

She's a lover
And you know she's coming through

There below the gray stone walls
Behind the hill she waits for you
Painted on a field of corn
Strange messages she leaves for you

She sheds her summer dress
Fearing it displeases you
Amid the white silk melting forest
Where she flew

She's a lover
And you know she's coming through

Across the wooded plains
The wild geese have fled
Beneath the splintered stones
Her anger seeps through red

She's a lover
And you know she's coming through