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Sister Janet

Tori Amos

 
Master Shamen, I have some with my dolly from the shadow side,
With a demon and an Englishman. I'm my mother, I'm my son.
Nobody else is slipping the blade in easy.
Nobody else is slipping the blade in the marmalade.
 
But all the angels and all the wizards, black and white,
Are lighting candles in our hands.
Can you feel them, yes, touching hands before our eyes
And I can even see sweet Marianne
 
Sister Janet, you have come from the woman clothed with the sun,
Your veil is quietly becoming none. Call the Wanderer, he has gone.
All those up there are making t look so easy.
With your perfect wings,
A wing can over all sorts of things.
 
Hey, yes! This again, well I think I could try this once again.
 
But all the angels and all the wizards, black and white,
Are lighting candles in our hands.
Can you feel them, yes, touching hands before our eyes
And I can even see sweet Marianne