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She was something very special to me |
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The kind of girl you'd like to see |
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In a movie or a rosary |
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She could be straight-laced or homespun |
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Or free and easy on the run |
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She could be meek and mild or full of fun |
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She liked country lanes and aeroplanes |
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And cigarettes would make her strange |
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And when she wanted you she made it plain |
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She would never say where she came from |
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It didn't seem that she had anyone |
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To answer to or dwell upon |
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She liked candlelight and good wine |
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And i would call her any time |
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Of day or night she didn't mind |
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The was nothing that i wouldn't do |
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To prove to her my love was true |
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And she gave to me a dream or two |
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There were times when she would never appear |
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For days and then she'd disappear |
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But now the days have turned to years |
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I was something she could use |
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Like a good friend or a pair of shoes |
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Or any kind of good news |
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Now the eastern sky is crimson and red |
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As i lie here in my lonely bed |
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And think about the things she said |
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She said darling there will come a day |
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When i must run far away |
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I will go my love and you must stay |
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She departed in the early spring |
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She didn't leave me anything |
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To follow or to find her |
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She was something very special to me |
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The kind of girl you'd like to see |
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In a movie or a rosary |
