claire fontaine
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who are you
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i like the paper you make
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we were introduced by a lover of mine
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and now she's gone and i still have you claire fontaine
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claire fontaine
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you seem to bring
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the best out of me and the things that i write to sing
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claire fontaine
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claire fontaine
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are you a lumberjack or something
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does your father own a forest of the nicest trees for chopping
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claire fontaine
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claire fontaine
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your sheets are very smooth
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i like to rub my pen across them do you feel the way i do
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claire fontaine
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claire fontaine
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you seem to bring
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the best out of me and the things that i write to sing
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claire fontaine
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if the newspapers used your paper for the news
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things may seem less terrifying just because of you
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claire fontaine
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and were you in the garden
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when they said the war had started
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did you think you'd write a letter that would start
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my dear departed
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claire fontaine
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claire fontaine
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you seem to bring
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the best out of me and the things that i write to sing
|
claire fontaine...
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claire fontaine
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i'm going home for christmas
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they may refuse me entry 'cause your native to this country
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claire fontaine
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but as a foreigner
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reliquish a pad of paper so distinguished
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i say never never never i'll take this pad of mine to heaven
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claire fontaine
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but maybe i will choose to write a fan letter or two
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i might write one to andy warhol and the other one for you
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and you can rest assured in knowing
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they'd be on your paper too
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claire fontaine
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who are you
|
|
claire fontaine
|
you seem to bring
|
the best out of me and the things that i write to sing
|
claire fontaine
|
|
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Claire Fontaine
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| Hawksley Workman |
