You used to be so beautiful In your father's house on the hill carrying your black bound book beyond the world of thrill we'd dream of blond-haired children who'd run between my legs you ordered me an omelet but I was not eating eggs you gave me 547 days to try and find a start of the railway line to heaven where you arranged to send your heart I used to put an X across the days that you and I missed but I burned my calendar and gone to sleep and dreamed of your mother hips the next time that I saw you your hair had turned to brown you yelled at me across the room but you did not make a sound you were standing with a widower who lost his will to try and was fooling all the drunken girls who came to see him cry Late at night through the candle light I told you it wasn't just for kicks you said, "what?" and we nestled down into your mother hips Late at night through the candle light I told you it wasn't just for kicks you said, "what" and we nestled down into your mother hips