Lyrics to Christabel
I spent seven long days and seven hard nights
In a Sixty-two Chevy, broke tail-lights.
An eastbound man,
in a westbound lane,
a dishwater blonde about sixteen,
was standing on the shoulder a ribbon in her hair,
her hand on her hip and her thumb in the air.
And i pulled off the road,
and as she grabbed for the door
i knew the wind was cold
cause i had seen it all before
and i was scared.
Thing ain't never what they seem when
you find you living in your own dream.
Now the moonlight peek in and out behind the clouds,
now and again on this god-less child,
And the radio was scrambled,
crackling in the air.
The ribbon she wore looked old in her hair,
and i saw the moonlight sliver dead down on her face,
and i knew it was true,
she was in the wrong place,
in the wrong time,
in the wrong tale.
I knew when i'd asked her,
she hissed Christabel.
Thing ain't never what they seem when
you find you living in your own dream.
She was after the man who had left her alone,
no father beside her,
a love long time gone,
and a snake deep inside her,
a hiss in her head,
the rest that had been her was dying or dead,
and she'd a taste for young women with pearly white skin.
She spat on the floor when she spoke of the man,
who had made her like,
who had written her tale,
this medievel maid,
they called Christabel.
Thing ain't never what they seem when
you find you living in your own dream.
Then she breathed out the story of her lover to be,
a knight in shining armor on a silvery steed,
who longed to be worth so he sought the crusade,
while she waited, breath-bated, in linen brocade,
but a pair of black eyes wove round her a spell,
the snake they calle Lybia seduced Christabel,
and she cuddled her tender, she poisoned her soul,
then stole her young body and made it her own.
Thing ain't never what they seem when
you find you living in your own dream.
Now the knight would love Lybia,
in Christabel's arms,
Lybia would have it should he ever return,
but Lybia was left with the story undone,
no silvery steed,
no castle,
no throne,
half-woman, half-serpent,
entwined in a spell,
abarged black and fancy,
the medievel tale.
And she faded at dawning,
to burden the beast,
deep in the dreams of those bound for the east like me.
Thing ain't never what they seem when
you find you living in your own dream.
Thing ain't never what they seem.
(Thanks to Sanitera for these lyrics)
In a Sixty-two Chevy, broke tail-lights.
An eastbound man,
in a westbound lane,
a dishwater blonde about sixteen,
was standing on the shoulder a ribbon in her hair,
her hand on her hip and her thumb in the air.
And i pulled off the road,
and as she grabbed for the door
i knew the wind was cold
cause i had seen it all before
and i was scared.
Thing ain't never what they seem when
you find you living in your own dream.
Now the moonlight peek in and out behind the clouds,
now and again on this god-less child,
And the radio was scrambled,
crackling in the air.
The ribbon she wore looked old in her hair,
and i saw the moonlight sliver dead down on her face,
and i knew it was true,
she was in the wrong place,
in the wrong time,
in the wrong tale.
I knew when i'd asked her,
she hissed Christabel.
Thing ain't never what they seem when
you find you living in your own dream.
She was after the man who had left her alone,
no father beside her,
a love long time gone,
and a snake deep inside her,
a hiss in her head,
the rest that had been her was dying or dead,
and she'd a taste for young women with pearly white skin.
She spat on the floor when she spoke of the man,
who had made her like,
who had written her tale,
this medievel maid,
they called Christabel.
Thing ain't never what they seem when
you find you living in your own dream.
Then she breathed out the story of her lover to be,
a knight in shining armor on a silvery steed,
who longed to be worth so he sought the crusade,
while she waited, breath-bated, in linen brocade,
but a pair of black eyes wove round her a spell,
the snake they calle Lybia seduced Christabel,
and she cuddled her tender, she poisoned her soul,
then stole her young body and made it her own.
Thing ain't never what they seem when
you find you living in your own dream.
Now the knight would love Lybia,
in Christabel's arms,
Lybia would have it should he ever return,
but Lybia was left with the story undone,
no silvery steed,
no castle,
no throne,
half-woman, half-serpent,
entwined in a spell,
abarged black and fancy,
the medievel tale.
And she faded at dawning,
to burden the beast,
deep in the dreams of those bound for the east like me.
Thing ain't never what they seem when
you find you living in your own dream.
Thing ain't never what they seem.
(Thanks to Sanitera for these lyrics)
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