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"She's a pornographer's dream," he said
I knew what he meant
But it made me imagine what kind of a dream he would have
That hadn't been spent
Would he still dream of the thigh, of the flesh upon high
What he saw so much of?
Wouldn't he dream of the thing that he never could quite
Get the touch of?
Out of his hands
Over his head
Out of his reach
Under this real life
Hidden in veils
Covered in silk
Dreaming of what might be
Out of his hands
Over his head
Out of his reach
Under this real life
Hidden in veils
Dreaming of mystery
Bettie Page is still the rage
With her legs and leather
She turns to tease the camera and please us at home
And we let her
Who's to know what she'll show
Of herself, in what measure?
If what she reveals, or what she conceals
Is the key to our pleasure
Out of our hands
Over our heads
Out of our reach
Under this real life
Hidden in veils
Covered in silk
Dreaming of what might be
It's out of our hands
Over our heads
Out of our reach
Under this real life
Hidden in veils
Dreaming of mystery
Under this real life
Dreaming of what might be
Under this real life
Dreaming of mystery
"She's a pornographer's dream," he said
I knew what he meant
And it made me imagine what kind of a dream he would have
I knew what he meant
But it made me imagine what kind of a dream he would have
That hadn't been spent
Would he still dream of the thigh, of the flesh upon high
What he saw so much of?
Wouldn't he dream of the thing that he never could quite
Get the touch of?
Out of his hands
Over his head
Out of his reach
Under this real life
Hidden in veils
Covered in silk
Dreaming of what might be
Out of his hands
Over his head
Out of his reach
Under this real life
Hidden in veils
Dreaming of mystery
Bettie Page is still the rage
With her legs and leather
She turns to tease the camera and please us at home
And we let her
Who's to know what she'll show
Of herself, in what measure?
If what she reveals, or what she conceals
Is the key to our pleasure
Out of our hands
Over our heads
Out of our reach
Under this real life
Hidden in veils
Covered in silk
Dreaming of what might be
It's out of our hands
Over our heads
Out of our reach
Under this real life
Hidden in veils
Dreaming of mystery
Under this real life
Dreaming of what might be
Under this real life
Dreaming of mystery
"She's a pornographer's dream," he said
I knew what he meant
And it made me imagine what kind of a dream he would have
Lyrics submitted by tonightwefly
Track duration: 03:31
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This line struck me the most. Why would he, a pornographer, dreams of a woman when he has seen so much of, plenty and oftentimes .. naked? No, he doesn't dream of a girl/woman/potential doll, but what he truly desires is that one sensation to be close to someone you love. He, because of his "profession", has lost his touch and thus appreciation for the true "woman" so to speak, as all he sees in them are such "thigh, of the flesh upon high" and such. Seeing them as work... This is why he can't have what he really want deep down...
"Out of his hands
Over his head
Out of his reach
Under this real life
Hidden in veils
Covered in silk"
The chorus just indicates the fact the his dream for a "true" woman is out of his reach, yet hidden "under his real life, in veils, in silk", his profession. He could never find love...