Marillion - Dry Land
Track 5 of _Script For A Jester's Tear_
Catalogue princess, apprentice seductress
living in her cellophane world in glitter town
Awaiting the prince in his white Capri
Dynamic young tarzan courts the bedsit queen.
She's playing the actress in this bedroom scene
She's learning her lines from glossy magazines
Stringing all her pearls from her childhood dreams
Auditioning for the leading role on the silver screen.
Patience my tinsel angel, patience my perfumed child
One day they'll really love you, you'll charm them with that smile
But for now it's just another Chelsea Monday.
Drifting with her incense in the labyrinth of London,
Playing games with faces in the neon wonderland
Perform to scattered shadows on the shattered cobbled aisles
Would she dare recite soliliquies at the risk of startk applause.
She'll pray for endless Sundays as she enters saffron sunsets,
Conjure phantom lovers from the tattered shreds of dawn,
Fulfilled and yet forgotten the St. Tropez mirage
Fragrance aphrodisiac, the withered tuberose.
Patience my tinsel angel, patience my perfumed child
One day they'll really love you, you'll charm them with that smile
But for now it's just another Chelsea Monday.
Catalogue princess, apprentice seductress
buried in her cellophane world in glitter town.
Catalogue princess, apprentice seductress
living in her cellophane world in glitter town
Awaiting the prince in his white Capri
Dynamic young tarzan courts the bedsit queen.
She's playing the actress in this bedroom scene
She's learning her lines from glossy magazines
Stringing all her pearls from her childhood dreams
Auditioning for the leading role on the silver screen.
Patience my tinsel angel, patience my perfumed child
One day they'll really love you, you'll charm them with that smile
But for now it's just another Chelsea Monday.
Drifting with her incense in the labyrinth of London,
Playing games with faces in the neon wonderland
Perform to scattered shadows on the shattered cobbled aisles
Would she dare recite soliliquies at the risk of startk applause.
She'll pray for endless Sundays as she enters saffron sunsets,
Conjure phantom lovers from the tattered shreds of dawn,
Fulfilled and yet forgotten the St. Tropez mirage
Fragrance aphrodisiac, the withered tuberose.
Patience my tinsel angel, patience my perfumed child
One day they'll really love you, you'll charm them with that smile
But for now it's just another Chelsea Monday.
Catalogue princess, apprentice seductress
buried in her cellophane world in glitter town.
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