Saint Lucy - Catie Curtis

I woke up dreaming in romance languages

Tangled stories by ghost writers

But more like screaming like my eyes in bandages

All around me your flowers

Oh, Saint Lucy

I can’t find the place where I need to be

Oh, Saint Lucy

Lend your eyes, to me

I walk in to the hall, Ms Love’s doing magic tricks

I take a seat in the back by the door

And the next thing I know I am right there in the front row

Trying to crawl inside her smoke and mirrors

Oh, Saint Lucy

I can’t find the place where I need to be

Oh, Saint Lucy

Lend your eyes, to me

My neighbor is digging a well in the backyard

While I stumble around looking for a light upstairs

And I can’t help but wonder if this is all I am good for

If it’s all that I am if it’s my only prayer then

How far tell me, will faith get me

When the well is almost dry

How far tell me, will faith get me

When the well is, well well well

Oh, Saint Lucy

I can’t find the place where I need to be

Oh, Saint Lucy

Lend your eyes, to me