Rose Fairy in the city streets
Tip-toeing through a world of grey.
With all the noise and the pageantry
Not a soul will ever look her way.
Newspaper in the dusty wind
Blowing words into your eyes
The grey grid of the city streets
Carving words into the skies.
If I couldn’t see you,
Would your blue eye be around?
If I couldn’t feel you,
Would your hand be reaching down?
Pigeon-toed in the afternoon
Where the Sun will set no one can say.
Shadows fall from the buildings tall
Layering more grey upon the grey.
Green tree in the city park.
You see that tree, you want to rise.
Business man in the alley-way,
You see that man, you want to fly.
If I couldn’t see you,
Would your blue eye be around?
If I couldn’t feel you,
Would your hand be reaching down?
You don’t talk and you cannot hear
A wicked wind is swirling ’round your mind.
Cars race through the dimming streets
Do you think they’re leaving you behind?
You, you start to speak,
You start to speak and you’ll be mine.
If Heaven blows us a wicked wind
And you start to fall, you will be fine.
If I couldn’t see you,
Would your blue eye be around?
If I couldn’t feel you,
Would your hand be reaching down?
The Sun sinks and the buildings rise
But at least you’ve finished up your day.
Eating buns from the city streets,
Not a soul could ever live that way.
Rose Fairy in the city streets
You blow that wind, she’ll start to fly.
The grey grid of the city streets,
If it brought her low, it can lift her high!
If I couldn’t see you,
Would your blue eye be around?
If I couldn’t feel you,
Would your hand be reaching down?