“She’s blood, flesh and bone
No tucks or silicone [none yr damn business, tho]
She’s touch, smell, sight, taste and sound
But somehow I can’t believe
That anything should happen
I know where I belong [whoa there, guy]
And nothing’s gonna happen [agreed]
Yeah, yeah
‘Cause she’s so high
High above me, she’s so lovely
She’s so high [o yeah?]
Like Cleopatra, Joan of Arc, or Aphrodite [died horribly, died horribly, imaginary]
She’s so high, high above me”
I like your father’s work, and everything, but damn. These are not the lyrics of a man who has healthy relationships with she-people.
Warmly, Janet Burns 