The Green Pajamas

The Ghosts Of Love

Sometimes she bathes with the enemy
Sometimes she sings for the whip
Sometimes she sings like the children
Sometimes with her hips
And sometimes she's the Queen of Sheba
Hoping she'll be missed
I wonder what other would love her like this

Some days she looks like a cellist
Some days she looks like a maid
Some days she's from Dublin
Some days outer space
And some days she's a whooping cowgirl
Looking for a kiss
I wonder what other would love her like this

Some days she looks like a harlot
Some days she looks like a nun
And some days she looks to be all of thirteen
Some days thirty one
But when you clamp those golden handcuffs
Tightly to her wrists
I wonder what other would love her like this

Some days she's a martyr
Or an Anne of a Thousand Days
Some nights she's the moonlight
Some days she's the rain
And you tied her to the bedposts
'Cause you had to take the risk
I wonder what other would love her like this

She smiled like the Queen of Heaven
She growled like Helen of Troy
She fell in love with your whisky breath
and your body of a little boy
But your sex is sacrificial
And your love is like a cyst
I wonder what other would love her like this

Her gaze is dark and deadly
You hold a thorny ring
And there's a thousand Trojan soldiers out there
Waiting on their king
And when the red blood's running
Through the smooth cracks of her fists
I wonder what other would love here like this

Sometimes she lives for crazy drugs
Sometimes for a phony past
Some days she's a sexual seance
Some days a sexual mass
You see her in the morning
Dressed in ebony and mist
I wonder what other would love her like this

Some days she is suicide
Some days she is sand
And some days she's the pony ride
In some dark Disneyland
And sometimes she's so perfect
That is scares you to resist
I wonder what other would love her like this

And I know she longs for my love's
Cold kisses in the dark
'Cause I can see reflected behind her black eyes
Just how their lips would part
And just beyond that promise
Lies the madness that is bliss
I wonder what other would love her like this

I saw her in the bathroom
In naked skin of frost
Crying over what she gave you 
Crying over what was lost
Then giving up the ghost of love
And thistle Eucharist
I wonder what other would love you like this

Yes, I wonder what other would love you like this


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(c) 1989 Jeff Kelly / Half The World Publishing, BMI