Pussy Willow

	In the half-tone light of a young morning
	She sighs and shifts on the pillow.
	And across her face dancing, the first shadows fly
	To kiss the pussy willow.
	In her fairy-tale world she's a lost soul singing
	In a sad voice nobody hears.
	She waits in her castle of make-believing
	For her white knight to appear.
	Pusy willow --- down fur-lined avenue
	Brushing the sleep from her young woman eyes.
	Runs for the train --- see, eight o'clock's coming
	Cutting dreams down to size again.
	Pussy willow --- down fur-lined avenue
	Brushing the sleep from her young woman eyes.
	Runs from the train. hear her typewriter humming
	Cutting dreams down to size again.
	She longs for the east and a pale dress flowing
	An apartment in old mayfair.
	Or to fish the spey, spinning the first run of spring
	Or to die for a cause somewhere.
	Pussy willow --- down fur-lined avenue
	Brushing the sleep from her young woman eyes.
	Runs from the train. hear her typewriter humming
	Cutting dreams down to size again.