She had eyes
that could not be surprised,
or at least not surprised very much.
And she had hands
that were much in demand.
Every man dreamed of her touch.
But nobody wondered
about her hungers;
her dreams, her desires, her doubts.
No one ever tried
and now that she’s died
it’s too late to figure her out.
She had joys, private joys
and sorrows in this world,
but nobody saw
the person inside
the beautiful girl.
The boys in this town,
they chased her around,
gave her good times and whiskey and jewels.
And when she wasn’t there
they sat drinking beer
and fought over her body like fools.
But no one thought to ask
if she was up to the task
of being all things to all men.
And one sad sunny day
she just went away.
Now we never shall see her again.
Chorus