Brett Anderson - Pretty Widows

See the pretty widows, cold as April skies
Hold their winter roses, clothed in nursery rhymes.
And love is where you find it, and love is where you reach
And love is in the patterns at her feet.

So play her game of tarot, hold her hair and hand,
Fold her dress like petals, turn the hanging man.
And love is where you find it and love is where you reach
And love is in the patterns at her feet.

So call the pretty widow, clear as April skies,
Steal her winter roses, sing her nursery rhymes:

Na na na na...
Oh the morning calls,
And the morning calls...