I'm making you a dress
That you can wear on top
Of all the other things that you have got
It's gonna be made of silk
It's gonna have lacy fringe
It's gonna have two pockets you can put your things in
But when you wear my dress
You've got to always step
In time with the one who's singing a song to you
The breath... upon your skin
The tiny gust of wind
The one against the other keeps you pinned
In line with the one who's singing to you
In time with the one who's singing to you
He's sung this song before before
He's slipping through that closing door again
I guess I am a ghost
That's what my friends all say
I'm rigid as a post and I am grey
There isn't anything
To say or do or want
I'm just an empty box collecting time, collecting sun
But when you wear my dress
You've got to always step
In time with the one who's singing his song to you