She drifted from some minor festival
Didn't look like any sumrner of love:
Just a thousand weekend warriors in a muddy field
She was the hand to fit my glove
Funny thing, the innocence of the lonely
Funny thing, the charm of the young

See how she moves just like two angels (in white innocence)
Yet one of them is on the run
The other's tapping at my car window
And I'm squinting through the sun
Trying to see if she's some child of the nineties:
Or just another dangerous fantasy of mine
Yeah. White innocence
She was white innocence

A perfect hole was in her stocking:
It made a perfect window to her heart
I could have moved among her waterfalls:
Her misty curtains drawn apart
Did she see warm safety in my numbers
To want to hitch a ride this way?
Felt like I was taking her to market now
To be sold as the last lot of the day
Funny thing, the distance of the lonely
Funny thing, the charm of the young
White innocence
She pressed the button, lowered the window:
Let her hand trail in the slipstream of the night
A frost from nowhere seemed to lick her fingers:
I could have warmed them, but the moment wasn't right
Obvious, she was headed nowhere special:
Yes, well it was even obvious to me
I was doing some, some watching, some waiting:
She'd been here before, most definitely

There was the promise of early bed-time
There was the promise of heaven on earth
Think I was sending out low-voltage electricity:
Played it right down for what it was worth
She turned and looked at me in white innocence
And with the clearest eyes of forever grey
She rested one small hand for a second on my knee:
I stopped the car. She walked away
Funny thing, the wisdom of the lonely
Funny thing, the charm of the young
Away you go now
White innocence