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Miss impossible

par The Poets Of The Fall

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She can see about four satellites every minute of the hour
And find a four leaf clover where you never saw a flower
She´s habitually paradoxical, a parallel perpendicular

Barefoot in nightgowns, that´s how she dances in the rain
Sundown to sundown, like she was washing ´way her pain

As she is beautiful, she´s unpredictable
Damned irresistible, is it plausible to hate her
She is my common sense, revels on decadence
But what´s the difference, it´s impossible to bait her

She can really be a handful like the brownies that she bakes you
It can be a tad hysterical, but never quite the breakthrough
She´s some kind of an epitome, the sea of intranquility

In flimsy nightgowns, barefoot she dances in the rain
Sundown to sundown, like she was washing ´way her pain

As she is beautiful, she´s unpredictable
Damned irresistible, is it plausible to hate her
She is my common sense, revels on decadence
But what´s the difference, it´s an impossible debate
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