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Barclay James Harvest, The Barclay James Harvest The Iron Maiden She walks on through the night Her circumstances slight Are only helping her to fail And though she feels she's right She tries with all her might And makes the deepest peril pale Oh, but she is unreal Oh, but she doesn't feel Oh, but she is unreal She chooses who to love And then unlike a dove She takes the laughter from their smile She wears a velvet glove Her friends may find it rough It is a gauntlet all the while Oh, but she is unreal Oh, but she doesn't feel Oh, but she is unreal |
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