Lyrics

YOUR PINK DRESS

The pink dress you left behind sits in the window
Of a retail shop on Congress Avenue.
Trapped on a torso going nowhere,
Between a wedding gown and a sign: “Buy 1 – Get 2”.

No face to smile when it’s dancing on a Friday night.
No arms to hold someone ‘til the bar shuts down.
A mannequin wears it now waiting for tomorrow,
And a new life outside this empty town.

Now that I’ve said it out loud – it reminds me of you.
Not the ribbons or lace, but the soft, blushing hue.
Some days I drive by as a test, find out I’m still a mess.
I know you’re gone, but you haven’t left -
Locked in a white frame and glass, your pink dress.

I suppose I could stop in and buy it.
Hide it in a box and forget for fifty years.
Then one day I’d remember where I left it,
And wouldn’t stop myself from ending up back here.

Now that I’ve said it out loud – it reminds me of you.
Not the ribbons or lace, but the soft, blushing hue.
Some days I drive by as a test, find out I’m still a mess.
I know you’re gone, but you haven’t left -
Locked in a white frame and glass, your pink dress.

The pink dress you left behind sits in the window
Of a retail shop on Congress Avenue.
Waiting on a torso to go somewhere,
Maybe I should learn to let go too.

Now that I’ve said it out loud – it reminds me of you.
Not the ribbons or lace, but the soft, blushing hue.
Some days I drive by as a test, find out I’m still a mess.
I know you’re gone, but you haven’t left -
Locked in a white frame and glass, your pink dress.
Locked in a white frame and glass, your pink dress.