P. Williams
Born at the edge of winter
She was November’s child
Under the sign of the Scorpio
She was bound to be wild
Hold her and love her
Still she’s a stranger
The red headed lady
Just will not be tamed
Though you may need her
Don’t try to lead her
This is the lady they named
Scorpio Red
Scorpio Red
Scorpio Red
Wearing a robe that is emerald green
She can make a man bow
Some say the cat that she carries about
Is like her somehow
Men will pursue her
Wanting to do her
Favors and errands
But she will have none
Laughing at money
Riches seem funny
Heaven and Hell may just want
Scorpio Red
Scorpio Red
Scorpio Red
Was a time she belonged to me
Was a time she belonged to me
Sunlight’s her right light for loves that she
Giving herself to me
Her hair falling over my pillow
Like a crimson waterfall
Making no promise to stay
I knew she’d leave me someday
I’d wake alone in the morning
And that would be all
Of Scorpio Red
Scorpio Red
Scorpio Red
Born at the edge of winter
She was November’s child
Under the sign of the Scorpio
She was bound to be wild
Hold her and love her
Still she’s a stranger
The red headed lady
Just will not be tamed
Though you may need her
Don’t try to lead her
This is the lady they named
Scorpio Red
Scorpio Red
Scorpio Red
Wearing a robe that is emerald green
She can make a man bow
Some say the cat that she carries about
Is like her somehow
Men will pursue her
Wanting to do her
Favors and errands
But she will have none
Laughing at money
Riches seem funny
Heaven and Hell may just want
Scorpio Red
Scorpio Red
Scorpio Red
Was a time she belonged to me
Was a time she belonged to me
Sunlight’s her right light for loves that she
Giving herself to me
Her hair falling over my pillow
Like a crimson waterfall
Making no promise to stay
I knew she’d leave me someday
I’d wake alone in the morning
And that would be all
Of Scorpio Red
Scorpio Red
Scorpio Red
( The Holy Mackerel )
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