Tommy Dorsey Follow

She sighs and shifts on the pillow
And across her face dancing, the first shadows fly
To kiss the pussy willow

In her fairytale world she's a lost soul singing
In a sad voice nobody hears
She waits in her castle of make believe
For her white knight to appear

Pussy willow, down furlined avenue
Brushing the sleep from the young woman eyes
Runs for the train, see eight o'clock's coming
Cutting dreams down to size again

Pussy willow, down furlined avenue
Brushing the sleep from the young woman eyes
Runs from the train, hear her typewriter humming
Cutting dreams down to size again

She longs for the East and a pale dress flowing
An apartment in old Mayfair
Or to fish the Spey, spinning the first run of Spring
Or to die for a cause somewhere

Pussy willow, down furlined avenue
Brushing the sleep from the young woman eyes
Runs from the train, hear her typewriter humming
Cutting dreams down to size again

Pussy willow, pussy willow, pussy willow
Pussy willow, pussy willow, pussy willow

She sighs and shifts on the pillow
And across her face dancing, the first shadows fly