She likes neglected stories
About glovers and ghost signs and stone walls
Glass bottles turned blue
Charmed sometimes with notions
She holds onto daydreams
Watches faces at stop lights pass through
She likes cocktails at parties
She likes fog in the headlights
And the moon in the sky light
She hides in a name on the stage
But hopes someday they say
Floriana was that you
She paints pictures
Of women who love more than they can show with words
She'll let you believe that you're better than she
She likes colors you see when you close your eyes tight
She has stories she writes after she says good night
Where heroes are fragile
And love gently blows the paper-thin fig leaf aside
She hides in a name on the stage but hopes someday they say
Floriana was that you
She likes the sigh when the coffee tin is cracked
She lets harsh words pass by
She likes watching birds from up high
Where the granite for curbsides bakes in the sunlight
The white border on old photos that show folks in love
Who still sleep tangled all night
She would jump that gulf
If she failed and nobody knew
She hides in a name on the stage
But hopes someday they say
Floriana was that you
Floriana
Floriana
You should laugh a little louder
Hold your head a little prouder
You should dance a little longer than the music plays
She hides in a name on the stage
But hopes someday they say
Floriana was that you