Slow motion in the quiet of the room;
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so potent is the smell of her perfume
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that you think she's eternal,
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that you think she is everything...
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but no-one knows what she is.
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Repentance for all you should have said;
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her entrance seems to raise you from the dead
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and you think she's really with you,
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and you think that she'll always stay,
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always ready to forgive you,
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always ready to grant you her mercy
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- but in her own way.
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When she comes, she'll be a stranger;
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struck dumb, you'll try to protest
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as the drum beats out the danger...
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too late, you should have noticed
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that the lady with the skin so white,
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like something out of Blake or Burne-Jones
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always blocked out the light
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and shadowed all you owned.
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Still you think she's forever,
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yesterday and tomorrow...
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but no-one knows where she is.
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Stillyou swear that you can win her
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and your prayer is that she'll want you;
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aware, once a saint, now you're a sinner
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and your sins are going to haunt you
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when the lady with her skin so white
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like something out of Edgar Allen Poe
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holds your hand so very tight
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and you hope that she'll never let go.
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Easy targets, easy crosswords, easy life:
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these key margins leave you balanced on the knife,
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bleeding darkly In the end it all comes down
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to sleazy bargains.
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That hidden key-you tried so hard to find it,
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all you can conceive is the effort to be worthy.
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Even now you need tobe reminded
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that La Belle Dame is without mercy.
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The lady with her skin so white
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- you never did quite catch her name -
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now she holds you in the night
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and she'll never let go again,
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she'll never let go again.
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When She Comes
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Van Der Graaf Generator |