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passport, past life, a drifter's demons
alone, lost, and fast running out of reasons
for not falling in with the foreign legion

cold kicking the can around town one evening
streets all abandoned, bars barely breathing
a whirlwind, a woman, and a famous feeling

a cool, hard beauty, christened with composure
boots, skirt, blouse, shawl over her shoulders
skin soft, lips coloured crimson clover

slow burning sermon, to have and hold her
but ever since she started sleeping over
oh lord, i'm living like a holy roller

red animal romance in the summer heat
in parks, on patios, and in the streets
on mission, making moments into memories
and when winter's off the leash, and on the loose
we ward off the weather with a witches' brew
of dominoes, and prose, and delta blues

and no known drink, no known drug
could ever hold a candle to your love

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