Text: Howie Lucero. Ink The Feather.

(words and music by Howie Lucero © 1983)

Tale of what her kiss was like - what her kiss was like,
a story I could never write 'cause I don't understand.
Why'd she keep the whole damn book for the paragraph she took?
I'm left without a word to say; I'm scrawling on a silent page trying to -

capture what her kiss was like - what her kiss was like.
Just a victim in the test of time, and I don't understand.
Time and time, again I see every moment slip from me,
and I vow no question why, but each day, again I try to -
Ink the feather and write to forget her -
Ink the feather and write to forget her -
"Tell me what her kiss was like - what her kiss was like,"
I ask myself night after night - night after night.
"Tell me what her kiss was like - what her kiss was like,"
I ask myself night after night, but I don't understand.
Night by night, I play that dream and cast myself in every scene.
If I could wake before the rushes, I'd send the script back for re-touches.

Ink the feather and write to forget her -
Ink the feather and write to forget her -
(repeat)