Come dance with me, Darling, put your hands around my waist

Lean over here and give me a taste

I want a taste of your love

This feels so grand, dancing slow and holding hands

There's certain things that time can't erase

Like the taste of your love

    You know I want you

    You could always tell

`  I like the way you flirt with me

    When you ring my bell

You look so fine, hold me closer, you blow my mind

I'm tripping over the grin on your face

I need a taste of your love

    You know I want you

    You could always tell

    I like the way you flirt with me

    When you ring my bell

Please stay all night, say you will, darling, say alright

We can keep up this leisurely pace

With just a taste of your love

I take you up

I smoke you out

I find a weed

I choke it out

My fingers bleed

My breath is hot

The thing we need?

Forget-me-not

When I was young

You put me down

Thought it was cool

To call me clown

You sowed a seed

I almost bought

The thing we need?

Forget-me-not

Take a stand

State your case

There's nothing here

Time won't erase

Set it up now

Your best shot

The thing we need?

Forget-me-not

The moon is full

The night so quiet

We all need love

And then deny it

Some call it greed

But I think not

The thing we need?

Forget-me-not

Walk with me, we're going to daddy's garden

Walk with me, we're going down today

We'll pick the pretty flowers in the garden

"Forget-me-not"  was what I heard him say

"Forget-me-not" was what I heard him say

Whose girl is this?

Whose girl is this?

Was she smart, was she witty?

Was she loved, or was it pity?

Whose girl is this?

Whose heart is this?

Whose heart is this?

Was it pink with lace upon it?

Did she hide it in a locket?

Whose heart is this?

Whose love is this?

Whose love is this?

Was it bruised, was it busted?

Was it someone she once trusted?

Whose love is this?

Whose bed is this?

Whose bed is this?

Was there laughter in the morning?

Did it hit her without warning?

Whose bed is this?

Whose life is this?

Whose life is this?

Was it short, was it heavy?

Was it really necessary?

Whose life is this?

Whose song is this?

Whose song is this?

Does it end up bright and cheery?

Does it leave you sad and teary?

Whose song is this?

My church is made of people,

My church is being built.

My church is made of the finest grade.

My church is like a quilt.

I want to live out on the water.

I like to look up at the stars.

I like to be alone for hours.

I like to play in crowded bars.

The best songs make me weepy,

But true love makes me strong.

I'm gonna figure out what it's all about.

I'm gonna write another song.

I see you in the mirror.

Sometimes I see you in my dreams.

You're with me here forever,

That's what the story means.

Do you know how much I love you?

Can you feel it in the air?

By the fireside, late at night,

In the music that we share.

I want to thank you again for coming,

And filling up my life.

We live in the land of plenty,

I make a happy wife.

My church is made of people.

My church is being built.

My church is made of the finest grade.

My church is like a quilt.

Dream voice asked "Do you want to BE Lucinda Williams?"
I answered "I can't be Lucinda. I'm Buddha's Little Flower."
But I can download her,
Her voice, her songs, the words, the band.

I can't be Lucinda. (I'm Buddha's Little Flower.)
But she is my age, just a little older, a few days.
Just a little better, a song or two,
A word here or there.

I can't be Lucinda. I'm not anything like her.
I don't travel around on a bus/metal firecracker.
I don't have tattoos on my body,
She's the High Priestess Painted Lady, I'm Buddha's Little Flower.

True story about the dream.
I don't want what I can't have.

I'm not Lucinda.

Who said I loved you?
It is not a question of love.

Perhaps, I wish to envelop you,
Most assuredly I would protect you.
What I might do to make you laugh,
I would avoid all that might make you cry.
Of course I would stare at you,
Never with a blink.
Perhaps, an embrace might last a proper 1000 years.

Perhaps, I might brush your hair
Until the Sun quits exploding.
Then the moon with clarity
And thanks will reflect
A different cascading light.

Who said I loved you?

She looked at clouds,
And saw things.
I looked at her,
And did the same.

A shoulder uncovered,
Hair everywhere,
So much for fine fashion
And permanent press.

She touched me
To make a point.
What better way to understand me.

Tiffany and Cartier,
Paris and London.
But the memory is
Watermelon and cold ice cream
On a dusty Ridge Road.