Uploaded May 2023 | Updated September 2026, 8 minutes ago

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LYRICS:
Perla was an artist who painted things from life
She'd be there at her easel with brush or palette knife
She always seemed so calm with not one hint of strife

I'd see her in the cornfield or on the village green
She always looked so lovely poised and so serene
She'd shyly say hello and smile as I walked by the scene

One day I came upon her sitting by a stream
Her sketchbook on her lap 'twas like a waking dream
I marvelled at her beauty a vision it would seem

I slowly walked towards her quite curious to see
Whatever she was drawing beneath a shady tree
She tried in vain to hide it her portrait sketch of me

Flustered Perla fled the scene while speechless I looked on
She left behind her sketchbook which I then seized upon
I looked through all the pages to see what else she'd drawn

Her drawings gave me quite a start for there on every page
I saw my own true likeness it did not take a sage
To work out that she loved me but could not quite engage

I tried to find Perla but learned she'd moved away
I wish that I had told her I'd loved her from the day
That we'd first said hello now nothing's left to say

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#notautotuned #notpitchcorrected

Perla - words & music copyright Robert Haigh 2023