Claire, the fair, red ribbons in your hair
So eloquently furnishing your clever stare.
You look through me with your ruby eyes, that burn and tear into my skull,
And i'll never forget you, I swear, as long as I can mull.
Claire, the fair, I see you smiling through the air,
Your teeth are shinning like pearls as you glare
And its well known that you take good care of them.
You're always laughing and never fair,
When you decide whose jokes will flair.
Claire, Why is your hair so fair and your mouth so foul?
Your eyes like diamonds, and sharp like owl's?
When you go hunting and you're on the prowl,
You always get what you seek and take a vow
To never share your sacred cow.
I can't stop looking at your face,
And touching your skin that is so fair.
You should just kill me with your eyes,
That make me miss your lullabies.
Yes, honey, I'll leave you like you asked,
I'll never talk to you again.
I'm sick inside from your good byes,
And from yearning your false glares.
Every time you come around you stare,
Making me think again--
Do you love me now, or not Claire?
You're very dainty, with your pretty clothes,
And enticing me with words of prose.
But you really don't care,
I look at you and I can tell.
Claire, the fair, prance around, looking so great,
Your beauty shines through the darkest day
And every man prays just to see you again
But you enjoy to lead them all astray.
Tell me again what it was you said,
When I asked you for a hand today?
"I don't give hands, I take them"
"Until they're withered gems"
" And then I place them high up on a shelf"
Where collections go when they're condemned."
Knowing you, with your ivory cheeks,
It probably wasn't easy to be meek--
But I was wrong, you are on a streak
And I can taste it when you speak,
You always prey on the weak,
Biting into them with your falcon's beak.
So answer this:
who did you kill to make your face so smooth?
How did you find a way to soothe
All of the men who came for you,
And found nothing but a cork screw,
To keep their bottles open, and their pants ready for you?
Every time you walk, the stars are on the move,
They want to know, oh what! Will this summer brew!
When it sees your beauty, the sky, falls too
And nobody's surprised of the things you can do.
You can wave your hair so silently in the air,
And it makes waves of golden rings, Claire,
That shine forever, answering the choir's prayers.
Claire, the fair, your flowers in the lair,
They smell of honey and a sad despair,
Now that everyone knows of your affair.
You left the count and told him to beware,
Because he has a mare you're willing to impair
By feeding love to him in buckets of fake care.
Claire, the fair, your loving is so rare,
You've only shown it to a few millionaires,
And all the other men who thought they'd seen it are unaware,
That it wasn't you sitting on that chair,
And it wasn't you filling up the square,
You send out your sister, Melancholy Dread,
And she has no trouble with the dead.
Claire, the fair, your beauty fills the air,
Is it you that is so rare?
Or your kind of loving, coated in despair
And your simple kisses hovering slowly through the lair.
The darkness never fails to be outdone by your glare,
When you come through it to declare,
That your good looks have paid the fare.
Claire, the fair, your relations with the richest heirs,
Keep your hands dipped in gold and never there
When the arrest warrants come and tear
An old door on your new lair.
All the men, they know you well,
You dressed up and won them over, by putting on a careful spell.
So their ex-lovers call you Claire the Belle,
And dispise you harshly because you're so fair.
