Jane returns to her home in S—port briefly the next weekend.
lyrics
Home’s a funny place
When you come back and nothing’s changed
Bird clock on the wall
What revolutions have you made?
Mama’s statuettes
In porcelain bewilderment
I still get a sense
Of comfort from the lack of taste
Just to pass these days
Absentminded, find myself
Tracing out his face
Fiery eyes in charcoal grey
Like a will-o-wisp beckons into miry wilds
If I follow this infatuation I will slip
Still on every empty page, I see him
Still on every empty page, I see him
Draw myself in crayon
Let the awkward edges stand
Who’s this plebeian
Who thinks she has a flying chance?
Look around you, Jane
You’re a goodwill cabinet
As for darling Blanche
Educated, elegant
Bathed in summer hues,
Painted by a sweeter hand
How can I withstand
Knowing we’re so disparate
Still on every empty page, I see him
Still on every empty page, I see him
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