Red Hair

You've always had a thing for girls with red hair
But this year all the girls have red hair
And you kind of feel cheated, like it's just that easy
But this girl is real and she's sitting right there
At the corner by the window, long hair down
You move in close through the restaurant's clattering
She has the kind of skin that you think of as milk
The kind of freckles you think of as a smattering

Oh, Caledonia, coming home

She has a long green dress, buttoned all down the front
It's open at the throat where the freckles thin
And you can see the edge of some silky thing
Paler even, god, than her pale even skin

Oh, Caledonia, coming home

So you take a table in her line of sight
Look out the window, order a drink
And you know in a moment, she might look your way
And if you catch her eye with a knowing wink
She might rise and follow you through the crowd
Lead her up the stairs, turn the key
To that darkened room, touch her hair, and you won't have to speak

Oh

Waitress' hair is the color of blood
She brings your drink, gives you the eye
But you can't be bothered, you look on past
At that long green dress, trying to decide
Would you start at the throat, move down from there
Or would you slip the sandals from her feet
And button by button, find your way
Up those long smooth legs until they meet

Oh, Caledonia, coming home

Couple in the corner, arguing in French
"Mais chacqu'un ont les cheveux rouge cette annee"
But the girl in the window, the girl in the window
The girl in the window just looked your way

©2000 Annie Gallup