A Day Of Imagining.

Seems So Long Ago, Nancy

It seems so long ago,
Nancy was alone,
looking at the Late Late show
through a semi-precious stone.

In the House of Honesty
her father was on trial,
in the House of Mystery
there was no one at all,

It seems so long ago,
none of us were strong;
Nancy wore green stockings
and she slept with everyone.

She never said she’d wait for us
although she was alone,
I think she fell in love for us
in nineteen sixty one,

It seems so long ago,
Nancy was alone,
a forty five beside her head,
an open telephone.
We told her she was beautiful,
we told her she was free
but none of us would meet her in
the House of Mystery,

And now you look around you,
see her everywhere,
many use her body,
many comb her hair.
In the hollow of the night
when you are cold and numb
you hear her talking freely then,
she’s happy that you’ve come.

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