All the Flowers in All the World

She leans against a rabbit hutch
How long since you’ve felt a woman’s touch?
She’s made of spice and silver, you know you’ll miss her
Going two directions on the stairs…

Eyes that widen when she talks
Doorways framed with golden locks
The moon upon you, looking on you
Shows you the way to her gate

They say that all of Charlie Chaplin’s girls
Find their way into her curls
The songs are hers, and the windmill whirls
And all the flowers in all the world
Where could she be tonight?

She lights the lamp and snatches up
Night crawlers, potato bugs
And human muscle, y’hear that rustle?
Just lean back and relax…

Everybody grits their teeth
And passes time in social sleep
But she giggles ‘neath the covers, and pulls you under
Funny things on the radio…

Past the falls that bear her name
The bonfire fires, and the wind and the rain
And give praise there, for you were raised there
Up in the trees of the garden…

Cleopatra holds a glass
And lowers into a saffron bath
Her tongue may manage many the language
Spoken in the valley of your dreams…

She don’t make the papers shout
She ain’t the one you heard tell about
Away from the mission, she sees her visions
Watch them spinning around and around and around and around and around and around and around