My my my sweet sister She said she grew up too soon Her shelves are filled with astronomy books Which she confuses With the moon
She says "you'd better lock up all your doors Beneath every hat there hides a pair of horns"
And that is why Her springtime sky Is always Swallowed up in storms Among the millions out on Main Street We see the sun crashing down Like a fiery air-ship She prays unto each passing day "Oh! Carry me away" But she remains And her heart takes another hit
"How I wish I could," she says sometimes "How I wish I could strike out and smash apart this world of forms,
"But so betrayed am I "By my springtime sky "That's always "Swallowed up in storms"
I went down to the Mardi Gras - saw this guy: no shoes/crown of thorns: carrying around his cross - he had the right look in his eyes to perfectly match his disguise and what I couldn't get out of my mind was 'how many times have I seen that look on you?'
I told my sweet sister That I think I was born too late It makes men mean If they think that they've missed too much Or they can't relate
But to her that means nothing She'll just right it off as a twist of fate
Well they might free you From the prison But they'll never Let you clean your slate