| Lyrics: | They had problems with their father's law.
They sleep in the back of a feminist bookstore.
The Clarke Sisters
The eldest sister keeps a midnight vigil.
The youngest sister she's not spiritual.
The Clarke Sisters.
Their steel grey hair, their lovely steel grey hair.
The Clarke Sisters.
Why don't I introduce you
I'm sure they won't mind.
But don't you dare, laugh at their collections
Handed down, handed down for love.
The middle sister gets her period blood.
The flood of love. The flood of love.
The Clarke Sisters.
Their steel grey hair, their lovely steel grey hair.
The Clarke Sisters.
The afternoon world, the bees have stung the softball girls.
The midnight world, the crystal ball down the wooden hall.
The treehouse stands, their early childhood, were treehouse plans.
And right above,
The Clarke Sisters, handed down to love.
Handed down to love. Handed down to love. |
