He spoke my language in this foreign land
Familiar secrets shared in a sinful bed
Imagination flowing through his ancient hands
He painted just my fantasy in red, bright red
I call him Santa Fe
Someone to dance with on a rainy day
He will bring me all the empty reasons to be
Sure of what I'm only not so sure about
So can he just be my illusion
That I created with confusion?
He wears a tall top-hat filled with secrets of our souls
He'll pull them out, as he pulls you in through the secret hole
Saying
I call him Santa Fe
Someone to bleed with on this lovely day
He will bring me all the empty reasons to be
Sure of what I'm only not so sure about
Will he take this grand delusion
Add his love to make his own conclusion?
True or false, can you feel his pulse?
The warmth he carries really varies
With the name of the game
He will bring me all the empty reasons to be
Sure of what I'm only not so sure about
In the end it leads to sudden madness
When he takes these reasons
Breathes some sanity into them
So can he just be my illusion
I created with confusion
Will he take this, oh, this grand delusion
Add his love to make his own conclusion
He will paint his own conclusion in red with me in bed
Does he really love me? I'll see what I wanna see
And I'll never be free

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