She walks down Grant Street with a smile in her hand She looks like she known where she stands. She says, "A l'heure, mon cher, j'ai besoin de partir." And waits to strike a deal with her man. You could give her gold and diamond rings, At her feet your heart could be laid. She'd say her goodbyes with her telegram eyes And leave with her long French braid. Now the sultan's sons and the professional guns Have worshipped her from afar, She smiles a dreamy Botticelli smile But her heart is pure Belle Starr. She's got a scar the size of an ill-timed lie Few are privileged to see, She's got emerald glass that shines when she laughs, She's got cuts on both of her knees. And she looks out a dusty window pane Holding a letter from you, Reading in the avenue's empty light, "Merry Christmas -- the wings are for you."back to Alright It Was Frank
Copyright © Thomas Anderson, Angry Young Grad Student Music