grace

Grace -Elle a Elle sont Something about the way she walks rhymes And
she speaks French sometimes You'll find her on a dropped penny and on
windowsills Her eyes are big and move like bicycle wheels Her name is
Grace, her way is grace Sure, she saved me from my old face. She plays
music and weaves through the square Dawdling, in love and unaware She
loves strangers, prides nothing on herself Her goodness is her fun, her
sex, her wealth She is never undone like me She never grew up she just
got free. She passes through cities and towns She talks to the tramps,
the musicians, the clowns Grace walks through walls In brown plimsolls
and dirty shawls She falls inside the rain tonight As I wait in this
puddle and reflect the moonlight Every footprint she makes is to love
the land Grace will lead me into faith. Tonight she will take me by the
hand.