My Lady's House
There is light in my lady's houseAnd there's none but some falling rainThis like a spoken wordShe is more than her thousand names
No hands are half as gentleOr firm as they like to beThank God you see me the way you doStrange as you are to me
It is good in my lady's houseAnd the shape that her body makesLove is a fragile wordIn the air on the length we lay
No hands are half as gentleOr firm as they like to beThank God you see me the way you doStrange as you are to me