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Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river |
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You can hear the boats go by |
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You can spend the night beside her |
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And you know that she's half crazy |
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But that's why you want to be there |
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And she feeds you tea and oranges |
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That come all the way from China |
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And just when you mean to tell her |
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That you have no love to give her |
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Then she gets you on her wavelength |
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And she lets the river answer |
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That you've always been her lover |
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And you want to travel with her |
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And you want to travel blind |
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And you know that she will trust you |
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For you've touched her perfect body with your mind. |
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And Jesus was a sailor |
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When he walked upon the water |
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And he spent a long time watching |
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From his lonely wooden tower |
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And when he knew for certain |
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Only drowning men could see him |
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He said "All men will be sailors then |
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Until the sea shall free them" |
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But he himself was broken |
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Long before the sky would open |
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Forsaken, almost human |
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He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone |
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And you want to travel with him |
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And you want to travel blind |
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And you think maybe you'll trust him |
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For he's touched your perfect body with his mind. |
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Now Suzanne takes your hand |
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And she leads you to the river |
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She is wearing rags and feathers |
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From Salvation Army counters |
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And the sun pours down like honey |
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On our lady of the harbour |
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And she shows you where to look |
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Among the garbage and the flowers |
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There are heroes in the seaweed |
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There are children in the morning |
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They are leaning out for love |
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And they will lean that way forever |
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While Suzanne holds the mirror |
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And you want to travel with her |
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And you want to travel blind |
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And you know that you can trust her |
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For she's touched your perfect body with her mind. |
