What a terrible thing to dream of an almost lover To wake up in no one's arms in the freezing cold of your quiet room To be reminded once again You are alone.
Open mouths Shut jaws, Trembling hands Strong wrists, Gut wrenched butterflies killed, Restless nights Early mornings, Love gone Not forgotten, Eyes burning But Tears drying.
SHAKE back your hair, O red-headed girl. Let go your laughter and keep your two proud freckles on your chin. Somewhere is a man looking for a red-headed girl and some day maybe he will look into your eyes for a restaurant cashier and find a lover, maybe. Around and around go ten thousand men hunting a red headed girl with two freckles on her chin. I have seen them hunting, hunting. Shake back your hair; let go your laughter.