Love Song To a Stranger, Pt. 2

They brought me a beautiful basket of fruit
And two finger bowls of glass
The couch is gold with a floral design
And the wine is Germany's best
And the wine is Germany's best

My thoughts drift ino the frozen night
Frankfurt is covered with snow
And numbly they ride on an icy wind
To places they're longing to go
To places they're longing to go

I remember the tall dark Irish rose
Who held me in my limousine
And slept with me under a burgundy quilt
With sheets of silk in between
Well, anyway, that's how it seemed

I thought I wanted to marry him
His face was sculpted by God
His words were gentle and ever so true
And soft as the Irish fog
And lost in the Irish fog

I remember the boy from the monastery
Who wanted to be a monk
But he brought flowers and wine to my room
And we both got happily drunk
And we both got perfectly drunk

He laughed like the chimes of a silver bell
His eyes were alexandrite blue
He danced the t'ai chi with the grace of a deer
And I wanted to marry him too
Yes I wanted to marry him too

There was that son of a dog from the Tennessee hills
Kept telling me I was still young
He spoke in pure southern and smoothed out the lines
Round my eyes saying I was the one
Forever that I'd be the one

He drank and he cussed and he wrote his own songs
He was very much on the go
We followed each other for over a year
I couldn't have married him though
So we just lived in sin on the road

There was that black eyed beauty from Boston town
Two days were never too long
He stood by the mirror and picked out a rose
But I already wrote him a song
Yes, I already wrote him a song

So here I sit with my basket of fruit
And two finger bowls of glass
I finished my bottle of Germany's best
And concluded my thoughts on the past
That love is a pain in the ass