femme fatale
she's going to change the world with her funky beatnik talk
her frizzy hair dancing in the wind and a fresh cigarette on her lips
doing her dance,
doing her crazy rumba dance
doing her dance for the moon
oh god, the moon in her eyes -
like a cool summer breeze that hits you in the face
after waking up too early,
after staying out too late
the moon in her hair, on her lips, on her neck...
she's going to change the world
the rage of her grace,
the warmth of her grace
she's a storm in high heels and a low cut dress
that smile, that laugh
it looks like you need a light for that cold, fresh cigarette
let's get a coffee and write each other songs