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the little flower girl - ian anderson lyrics

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down at the church the flower girl sits. legs innocent, apart.
i make the picture puzzle fit to start your heart.
painted sister stopped beside. a word upon her saintly lip.
perhaps admonishing the child inside the open slip.

i don’t know where she might go when she runs home at night.
it’s for the best: i wouldn’t rest when i turned out the light.
no little flower girl singing in my troubled dream—-
just an old man’s model in a pose from a magazine.

i have touched that face a dozen times before. and i have let my pencil run.
laid down washes on a foreign sh-r-, under a hot and foreign sun.
my best sable brushes drift the soft inside of her arm.

her chin i tilt, her br–sts i lift. i mean no harm.

i close the door. she is no more until the next appointed hour.
northeastern light push back the night: painted promises in store.
no little flower girl singing in my troubled dream—-
just an old man’s model in a pose from a magazine.

down at the church my flower girl sits. legs innocent, apart.
i make the picture puzzle fit to start your heart.
my golden sable brushes drift the soft inside of her arm.
her chin i tilt, her br–sts i lift. i mean no harm.
i mean no harm. i mean

- ian anderson lyrics

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