Crimson Ship

My life was coloured painting pictures out of tune You came from nowhere in a song It might have been the way I laughed he made the jokes Could only show me what was wrong He took me flying on his crimson ship He never left me his number He took me flying on his crimson ship Then he was gone and I wondered     Who put the knots on all the crosses on the hill? Why did the old man wash his hands? Who grew the flower that was big enough to kill? And blew the trumpet in the van a-an   He took me flying on his crimson ship He never left me his number He took me flying on his crimson ship Then he was gone and I wondered     Oh-oh oh-oh When they were busy throwing kisses at the moon A father lost his mother’s son And though they knew the resurrection would be soon The time was spent they carried on o-on He took me flying on his crimson ship He never left me his number H                          He took me flying on his crimson ship Then he was gone and I wondered      Wondered Wondered Wondered . . . . .