Reflections on a Broken Mirror
Big gun powder and the Glasgow girl
Our lady of the highway with a string of pearls
Well I aint no modern masterpiece
New surrealist movement in the key of G
Well my baby loves me like an auto-harp
You see she plucks my mind and she strums my heart
We’re both victims of gravity
She’ll never fly away from me
Well you can tell by looking I’m not like the rest
Sometimes a broken mirror, reflects back the best
Well look inside my Chinese box
You have the key to every lock
It’s made of old chestnut and a lacquer top
Well once you stop you can never stop
Well you can tell by looking I’m not like the rest
Sometimes a broken mirror, reflects back the best
A vagabond child, has come back home
A walk through the clouds
in a sky the color of stone
