Dressed in Gold
Robin Trower
Dressed in gold like the morning
Painted stars on her face
Every man that she has fawning
Knows his place
Hours or days do not enslave her
But her age we dare not ask
There are many who still crave her
From her past
Knows only one game
Winner take all
Holds every last flame
In thrall
Truth and honor dance around her
Waiting at her beck and call
But will she end up where we found her
After all?
Some gave all just to be near her
Some gave more for even less
Who'll be the one that she has chosen
To be blessed?
To be blessed
