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.

Well 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 shore, under a hot and foreign sun.
My best sable brushes drift the soft inside of her arm.
Her chin I tilt, her b______ 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 dirl sits, legs apart, innocent.
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 b______ I lift; I mean no harm.
I mean no harm. I mean--

See also:
JustSomeLyrics
96
96.45
Brenna McCrimmon Ediye Lyrics
Loo & Placido Black Beatles (Beatles vs. Black-Eyed Peas vs. Ludacris vs. Kelis) Lyrics