In the half-tone light of a young morning
she sighs and shifts on the pillow.
And across her face dancing, the first shadows fly
to kiss the [bad word] Willow.

In her fairy-tale world she's a lost soul singing
in a sad voice nobody hears.
She waits in her castle of make-believing
for her white knight to appear.

Pusy Willow --- down fur-lined avenue [bad word] the sleep from her young woman [bad word] for the train --- see, eight [bad word] cutting dreams down to size again.
 [bad word] Willow --- down fur-lined avenue [bad word] the sleep from her young woman [bad word] from the train. Hear her typewriter humming
cutting dreams down to size again.

She longs for the East and a pale dress flowing
an apartment in old Mayfair.
Or to fish the Spey, spinning the [bad word] of Spring
or to die for a cause somewhere.
 [bad word] Willow --- down fur-lined avenue [bad word] the sleep from her young woman [bad word] from the train. Hear her typewriter humming
cutting dreams down to size again.