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You've got a face like Mona Lisa. You are so full of moon, I can't look you in the eye. Although I'll admit it was nice to meet you, Mona Lisa I can't afford to see you cry.
Cause bit by bit you'll be taken apart; turned into a postcard from a work of art; and I'll never know who you really are, cause I haven't got the time to stand in your line. Mona Lisa you will never be mine.
I shouldn't have started. I'll beg your pardon, cause you've got your own life to live and you've been nothing if not kind. I can't help but wonder, though, if the one who loves you so knows there's a masterpiece beside her every night.
Bit by bit you'll be taken apart; turned into a postcard from a work of art; and I'll never know who you really are, cause I haven't got the time to stand in your line. Mona Lisa you will never be mine.
Photo by Beth Skogen www.bethskogen.com