There's been an attack upon your shirt-sleeves.
She's a girl that wears a tie.
And that's not okay 'cause she was a Mormon
in her other lives.
He's a child of the stormy star belt,
you can sense it in his eyes,
They're brown like his morning coffee,
two sugars, one cream this time.
And he studies upon Sirius,
the star that blinks in the daylight.
It shines upon the prairie grass,
where the women are always born blind.
They read bad poetry in braille,
and go searching for the pines.
They've all had so many drinks together,
they feel like they could fly.
(and what an odd couple these two are,
they met in an airport lounge.
He put on her dress, and she his tie,
whatever was missing was found.)