Her name was Julie, a redhead. I never understood her but I couldn't resist her either. I think that it's always been that way with me and redheads. There seems to be no reasonable explanation for this. I think it's just a deficiency in my emotional make-up.

Where do you want to go?

She’s a high toned crimson woman with diamonds in her eyes
She’s in between a dream I’ve seen and a cold, dark, dreary sky
She kissed me like a feather, she cut me like a knife
Oh Lord, she’s hot and cold, she burns as cold as ice

I tried so hard to hold her, but the handle’s hard to find
A student of dichotomies I tried to read her mind
She told me that she loved me, she asked me not to stay
It’s hard to speak the truth, my friend, when the words get in the way

Where the night time meets the daytime, where the rivers run cold and dry
Where blind men have their visions with clear unclouded eyes
There’s a land I had forsaken, now tenderly called home
I hide behind the wisdom of all these things unknown.