She was my Mayfair girl
with hair that fell like golden rain
She was a perfect girl
stolen from my book of dreams
stands before me shimmering
delicate un-suffering it seems
she's an offering
She was my sunny girl
hair all spun in daisy chains
She was my funny girl
with spirit of an ancient child
peering from her deep blue eyes
with soul unfolding filling up the sky
pretty butterfly
She was so serpentine
wrapped around my poetry
but then she slipped away
garden of my flower died
mother of my unborn child
I thought that you would be my bride
I cried, on the night we died
A true hidden treasure of a song writer. This gent has been capturing songs in demo form on old tape recorders since the 80s. . . and he's still capturing his magic sounds in his secret basement. Damien Youth