If you could paint her, shed be a picasso.
Shes got a few things out of place.
Like when she smiles, its slightly out of line.
Its half awkward, yet half grace.
While youre unraveling this mystery
Of where she fits in time and space,
Shell drag you into this lovers tale,
Though she will not give a reason.
And if you fight her tooth and nail,
She wont give up until you lose...
She wants the last word, the last dance.
She thinks its absurd that you believe in second chances.
Youre a lost cause, yet here she is.
And thats the mystery. here she is...
Shes a poem by ferlinghetti.
Shes the angel from a nursery rhyme
Shell set you a place at your table,
Then fill your cup till youre drunk on red wine.
She dont believe in stars or in miracles,
But she reads your horoscope daily.
And if your response is too cynical,
Shell say, "who are you to know? "
While youre unraveling this mystery
Of where she fits in time and space,
Shell memorize your history
And decorate your place.