Nigel Stonier - Expecting Rosalind текст песни

She's coming from the realms of blue
With roses through the rain-drenched streets
To every secret rendezvous
Of lovers turning kitsch to Keats
She's coming to the moonlit shores
The parks and cafes of confusion
The living rooms of those cold wars
The homes of disillusion
And I can't wait to see her face and watch her taste the wine
Toast away the dead bouquets and wasted valentines
Scent of old love letters with the same misguided lines
Torn up and binned
So I'm staring at this hand of hearts
Expecting Rosalind

She's coming through the catholic night
From the tabernacle cobweb throne
She's peridot and pyrite
A razor's edge against the stone
She's coming with her hymns and songs
All holy waters of desire
The delirium of hands and tongues
Underneath the sheets on fire
And I can't wait to see the sun on this four-poster bed
The smell of wax and incense, the carpet stained in red
Father bring us bread and cocaine, be it on my fevered head
For I have sinned
Seeing in another dawn
Expecting Rosalind

And I'm dancing to her footsteps,
She's the first to know that
Look at these flags and streamers
Look at these fatted calves, this welcome mat

She's coming through the misty days
She's gliding down Victorian stairs
She's crinoline and rainbow lace
She's gossamer and English without tears
She's coming 'cause she must deliver
One touch of her dealing hand
To every heart sold down the river
Out across this broken promised land
And I was dreaming, I was screaming, falling to her arms
The sound of Nelson Riddle strings and bells and false alarms
Crashing in the blackness clutching spells and lucky charms
And carried by the wind
I woke up in this empty room
Expecting Rosalind
Expecting Rosalind