Claire Fontaine
Who are you?
I like the paper you make
We were introduced
By a lover of mine
And now she`s gone
But I still have you
Claire Fontaine
Claire Fontaine
You seem to bring
The best out of me
And the things that
I write to sing
Claire Fontaine
Claire Fontaine
Are you a lumberjack or something?
Does your father own a forest
Are the nicest trees for choppin`?
Claire Fontaine
And Claire Fontaine
Your sheets are very smooth
I like to rub my pen across them
Do you feel the way I do
Claire Fontaine?
Claire Fontaine
You seem to bring
The best out of me
In the things that
I write to sing
Claire Fontaine
If newspapers used
Your paper for the news
Things would seem less terrifying
Just because of you
Claire Fontaine
And were you in a garden
When they said the war had started
Do you think you`d write a letter
That would start `my dear departed...`
Claire Fontaine
Claire Fontaine
You seem to bring
The best out of me
And the things that
I write to sing
Claire Fontaine
oooh-oh
Claire Fontaine
I`m going home for Christmas
They may refuse me entry
`Cause you`re native to this country
Claire Fontaine
But as a foreigner relinquish
A pad of paper so distinguished
I`d say `never, never, never
I`ll take this pad of mine to heaven`
Claire Fontaine
Where maybe I would choose
To write a fan letter or two
I might write one to Andy Warhol
And the other one for you
And you could rest assured in knowing
They`d be on your paper too
Claire Fontaine,
Who are you?