When a story ends and its wake drifts
They know how to slip away in silence
If they leave you haunted
You trust only what's not there
Women who belong to someone
They're all kind of madonnas
They turn red if the dress slides down
Becoming moms amid pain and poetry
the one you dig into to find more
In the end it's always done your way
It wouldn't mean a thing if you weren't mine
Even the air tastes better
when we breathe it together
They even lift the man inside me
Women who belong to someone
They're all kind of madonnas
They turn red if the dress slides down
Becoming moms amid pain and poetry
the one you dig into to find more
It's great to keep you in a photograph
You can keep even heroes in your fist
It never leaves us, never