I want to fall in love with Little Boy Blue,
thread a thousand flower stems together
and fall off the edge of the world, holding on
to the chain I've made of strange daisies.
I want to spin there, while his kisses blow by
and tease me like late summer cross-winds.
I want to marry him in a leafy cathedral
scattered with berries and white stars.
Perhaps I'll be his Pink Girl in wind-swept cotton,
carressing his lips like a gold-plated bugle.
Perhaps I'll be faithful and as patient
as a little boot-strapped dog...
or maybe he'll find another portrait he likes better,
and I'll just be another lonely girl imitating Art.