Young girl bluesdonovanit's saturday night, it feels like a sunday in some waysif you had any sense, you'd maybe go away for a few daysbe that as it may, you can only say you are lonelyyou are but a young girl working your way through thephoniescafe on, milk gone, such a sad light and fading.yourself you touch, but not too much. you hear it'sdegrading.the flowers on your stockings wilting away in the midnightthe book you are reading is someone's opinion of moonlightyour skin is so white, you'd like maybe to go to bed soonjust closing your eyes if you're to rise up before noonhigh heels, car wheels, all the losers are groovin'your dream, strange scene, images are movin'your friends they are making a pop star or two every eveningyou know that scene backwards, they can't see the patternsthey're weavingyour friends they're all models but you soon got over thatoneyou sit in your one room a little brought down in londoncafe on, milk gone, such a sad light and fading.yourself you touch, but not too much. you hear it'sdegrading.it's saturday night, it feels like a sunday in some waysif you had any sense, you'd maybe go away for a few daysbe that as it may, you can only say you are lonelyyou are but a young girl working your way through thephoniestranscribed by stephen sandersteve_sander@cacdsp.com------------------------------------stephen sanderkms@inet.net----------------------------------