They'll always tell you
That nothing is the worst
That this hunger that you're feeling
Can be passed off as thirst
Then they'll turn and tell you
Not to leave the hearse
And these lilies of the air
Are just your family curse
This girl, that girl
She counts the hours
This girl, black girl
She wears flowers
The ship comes through the harbor
And the sails wore the sun
The captain nodded slowly
And assembled everyone
And the matron clears her throat to sing
And the doctor takes a drink
And down below
The convicts fall
Because skeletons don't think
This girl, that girl
She counts the hours
This girl, black girl
She wears flowers
This girl, that girl
She counts the hours
This girl, black girl
She wears flowers
This Girl, Black Girl was written by Robert Forster & Grant McLennan.
This Girl, Black Girl was produced by John Brand.