The Virgin - Gene Clark

She went off to the city

To find what she was looking for

To identify, to really try

To find herself some hope

With the summer sun for laughing

And the winter rain did pour

She was lovelier from learning

And from living, loving more

From her dancing love and young soul

And the gypsies in her dream

To the pulse of stark acceptance

When the winds began to freeze

With no curfews left to hold her

And no walls to shield her pain

Finding out that facts were older

And that life forms are insane.

The presence of protection seemed

To fade, as did her doubt

That she now was no exception

Nor was the love who pushed her out

Though the streets cried out,

Go, homesick

Virtues strength of mind would ring

In the maladies of meaning

The sad song she learned to sing.

Now, her teachers and philosophers

And the poet’s silver throat

Are the vessels which on wisdom’s karmic ocean she will float.

Was this her revolution,

Just a child in love’s crusade,

With the question in her innocence

Through the lies her eyes betrayed?