That Man – Maggie Wing

That man, he’s got something
Cool like blue, and hot like red
Paints his pictures when I’m dreaming
I feel his fingers in my head

I look into the well of self-forgiveness
I see the water’s practically run dry
I tell myself as long as there’s no witness
It’s something I can plausibly deny

That man, he’s got something
Bright like sky, and deep like coal
I trace his footsteps when I’m walking
I feel his thunder when it rolls

I stumble through my dark imagination
I throw my shadow arms around the night
But he’s off in some distant constellation
I spin around and try to catch his light

That man, he’s got something
Cool like blue, and hot like red
Paints his pictures when I’m dreaming
I feel his fingers in my head
I feel his fingers in my head