My crown as a girl was a shining braid
I weaved into a python
I heard that a life was an empty page
That men will want to write on
Right on, right on
But I got a pearl and a nascent flame
And a box for those old idioms
I push my hand into the window pane
Pull the drapes around a dark room of my own
Through the glass, there stretched a lovely plane
But who was I to glide across?
And even when I was alone
I thought I'd better to keep a light on
But I got a pearl and a nascent flame
And the box for those old idioms
I push my hand into a window pane
Pull the drapes around a dark room of my own
My crown as a girl was a shining braid
I weaved into a python
I got my finger to an empty page
That's the page I yearn to write on
Right on, right on
