I'm making you a dress That you can wear on top Of all the other things that you have got It's gonna be made of silk It's gonna have lacy fringe It's gonna have two pockets you can put your things in But when you wear my dress You've got to always step In time with the one who's singing a song to you The breath... upon your skin The tiny gust of wind The one against the other keeps you pinned In line with the one who's singing to you In time with the one who's singing to you He's sung this song before before He's slipping through that closing door again I guess I am a ghost That's what my friends all say I'm rigid as a post and I am grey There isn't anything To say or do or want I'm just an empty box collecting time, collecting sun But when you wear my dress You've got to always step In time with the one who's singing his song to you