Claire fontaine who are you i like the paper you make we were introduced
by a lover of mine and now she's gone and i still have you claire fontaine
you seem to bring the best out of me and the things that i write to sing are
you a lumberjack or something does your father own a forest of the nicest
trees for chopping your sheets are very smooth i like to rub my pen across
them do you feel the way i do if the newspapers used your paper for the
news things may seem less terrifying just because of you and were you in
a garden when they said the war had started did you think you'd write a
letter that would start 'my dear departed' i’m going home for christmas
they may refuse me entry 'cause you're native to this country but as a
foreigner relinquish a pad of paper so distinguished i say never i’ll take
this pad of mine to heaven where maybe i will choose to write a fan letter
or two i might write one to andy warhol and the other one for you and you
can rest assured in knowing they'd be on your paper too who are you
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