Carla (SCHAFER)

Carla, of kind and gentle ways
Watches me burn throug each of a thousand endless days
Carla, in hands like works of art
Clutches the torn and bleeding pieces of my heart
Carla

Would it be so unlike her to mop the floor
With my best attempts at something more
Than just a friendly mirrored smile
A greeting echoed nervously
She drives me crazy, but does she see?

Carla, her voice a sweet as cream
Beckons in siren song so cordial I could scream
Carla

Would it be so unlike her to lock the door
On my best intentions, if nothing more
Than just to talk a little while
Am I the man to ring her bell?
The mat says "welcome", but I can't tell

Carla, in hands like works of art
Clutches the torn and bleeding pieces of my heart
Carla, her voice as sweet as cream
Beckons in siren song so cordial I could scream
Carla