An old house circled with daisies
And a young stubborn girl within
Dreaming lazily about the coastline
With wine stains on her chin
When she wakens in the morning
And the sunlight makes her forget
All the sultry, wand’ring fancies
That a wine-stained life will beget
She will bathe in two-toned marble
Clean herself with the shell-shaped soap
Break her bones with her own fingers
And tie her dreams with well-made rope
So that God, when he’s surfing the coastline
When he has had his fair share of the wine
He will whisper to her in the morning
The secret of walking in a straight line.
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