I bathe in light and watch the steam whispering Perfect milky porcelain It is not me My pressed down soul Henri, Henri Through you I see A mothers love, no room for me I gave my sons all that I had One flew on home, lifes bitter seed The other broke, never a man He paints me now My pressed down soul Henri, Henri Through you I see A mothers love, no room for me He paints the gleam of china fine The hue of day a sharp white wine Green lungs that breathe outside my door My pressed down soul
henri, pressed, paint, soul, porcelain