She's catching the wind... the gentlest of breezes. It's a sensitive passage she's sailing - Through stormy straits, navigates my unfathomable failings.
She rises before me, reading me clearly. Empty nest left pressed in the pillow. She can shift, she can sway And bend like a willow.
I'm swept in the riptide. Caught in a fish trap. Gift-wrapped in my soft self centre. Summer sun leaves me as one who can only taste winter. She's a good, a good God-send... she can bend like a willow.
With a fully armed angel to cover me quickly, I'm cool under enemy fire. If I fall, she can crawl right under the wire.
When I'm caustic and cold, she might dare to be bold - Ease me round to her warm way of thinking... Fill me up from the cup of love that she's drinking. And I find, given time, I can bend like a willow. She bends like a willow Bends like a willow. Like a willow. Willow.