He spoke my language in this foreign land
Familiar secrets shared in a sinful bed
Imagination flowing through his ancient hands
He painted just my fantasy in red, bright red
I call him Santa Fé
Someone to dance with on a rainy day
He will bring me all the empty reasons to be
Sure of what I’m only not so sure about
So can he just be my illusion
That I created with confusion?
He wears a tall top-hat filled with secrets of our souls
He’ll pull them out as he pulls you in through the secret hole
I call him Santa Fé
Someone to bleed with on this lovely day
He will bring me all the empty reasons to be
Sure of what I’m only not so sure about
Will he take this grand delusion
Add his love to make his own conclusion?
True or false can you feel his pulse?
The warmth he carries really varies
With the name of the game
He will bring me all the empty reasons to be
Sure of what I’m only not so sure about
In the end it leads to sudden madness when he
Takes these reasons breathe some sanity into them
So can he just be my illusion
That I created with confusion
Will he take this grand delusion
Add his love to make his own conclusion
I cannot take this anymo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ore Saying everything I've said befo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ore All these words they make…
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