Black Music

She's not elegant, She's not refind But hanging from your windowsill, She is calling me in Taking me, Calling me in I have only rose Is that enough to Prove my decoration? Leaving my burdens behind she kept taking me in taking me, taking me in Rose,

There's a little secret Where my money goes Beneath some used food And ten pounds of clothes Wrapped in a dead president's wife Scissors and rock, paper and knife It's pink and it's soft Roses and rain Black and it's good like Pleasure and pain It's