She looked like a painting
By a Pre-Raphaelite
With red hair cascading
Past her sloping sad eyes
If Rossetti could have seen her
How he would have cried
And he didn't have a love like mine
Auburn hair tucked into the neck
Of her father's blue cable-knit fisherman vest
So when I tuck my locks into the collar of my shirt
From time to time, I think of her
I get the feeling
That when it's dark she glows
It's in her nature
Not any kind of show
She's in a painting
And I'm out of it
And I made things
And she's made out of it
She's made out of it (out of it)
She's made out of it (out of it)
She's made out of it
I once watched as we sat by the stream
Her blood like pink magnolia
Straight from the tree
Without a care in the world
I thought that ???
So nonchalant speaking to me
There was a time I was certain, and I was sure
She grew straight from the earth on a pedastal
But here in the dirt I know her better, I know her more
And I'd be subject to her laughter
If she ever did know those things she'd be after
And too much gets sewn, and she is a patchwork
And how I enjoy the ???
I get the feeling
That when it's dark she glows
It's in her nature
Not any kind of show
She's in a painting
And I'm out of it
And I made things
And she's made out of it
She's made out of it (out of it)
She's made out of it (out of it)
She's made out of it
[Red hair tucked into a blue sweater?]
Auburn hair tucked
Into the neck of her father's blue cable-knit
Fisherman vest
So when I tuck my locks
Into the collar of my shirt
From time to time
I think of her
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