Pornographer's Dream

Am                               
she's a pornographer's dream, he 
F
said.
F
I knew what he meant.
    C
but it made me imagine: what kind of
 a dream
            Am
he would have, that hadn't been 
spent?

Am
would he still dream of the thigh? 
of the flesh upon high?
        F
what he saw so much of?
           E
wouldn't he dream of the thing that 
he never
           Am
could quite get the touch of?

                 F               G
it's out of his hands, over his head
            A
out of his reach, under this real 
life
           F                 G
hidden in veils, covered in silk
                 A
he's dreaming of what might be

            F               G
out of his hands, over his head
            A
out of his reach, under this real 
life
            F     G
hidden in veils,
                  A
he's dreaming of mystery.

 Am
Bettie Page is still the rage
          F
with her legs and leather;
     E                             
she turns to tease the camera, and 
              Am
please us at home,
and we let her.

 Am                              
who's to know what she'll show of 
    F
herself,
F
in what measure?
   E
if what she reveals, or what she 
conceals,
       Am
is the key to our pleasure?

                 F               G
it's out of his hands, over his head
            A
out of his reach, under this real 
life
           F                 G
hidden in veils, covered in silk
                 A
he's dreaming of what might be

            F               G
out of his hands, over his head
            A
out of his reach, under this real 
life
            F     G
hidden in veils,
                  A
he's dreaming of mystery.

Am                               
she's a pornographer's dream, he 
F
said.
F
I knew what he meant.
    C
but it made me imagine: what kind of
 a dream
            Am
he would have?