And I miss you when you're gone He leaves me with a box of pearls kissing pearls with no mouths Conceived in a birdcage she grows The apple of her father's eye Swimming in a fountain of milk Built from bricks at the heart of thickness I can feel her fingers spread to the beat of a kick drum She will beautiful and we already know her name I've already laid eyes on the eyes on the apparition of my daughter She's got that touch of you that makes her glow Softest harmony, sung aloud And she will be beautiful Our choir girl Venora (taste me, embrace me, our choir girl). Mother natures got craftsmanship While producing ghostly fruits She crept behind the woodwork gracefully speechless