She took a little of me with her when she went
She took a little bit of December
She held enough me so I will never forget
This night I will always remember.
She was a special kind of wish
The kind that you never write down
And if nothing else, she'll be the one thing
That ties me to that town.
Her tread was velvet underground
Her eyes were paper flowers
Her soul was of lace and of the sound
I sing, the sound that was ours.
She was full of love and heart, you see
And fearless to a fault
And it was these two horribly beautiful things
That caused her beating heart to halt.
I watch for her now when the lightning strikes,
And sometimes I do see
Occasionally once, far less often twice
My fearless, dancing memory,
My bright-eyed, searching memory,
My gypsy, wild and free.