The Red Admiral's Daughter

I once wrote a song about a woman who kept on being left alone in a pub. I connected this with what I was going through at the time. In my head I pictured her looking forward to this night for the whole week and then her company just periodically deserting her.

I spy in the corner
The Red Admiral's daughter
They had her left
as solemn again

Pinned up for the night
like a tea stained print
Easy to flitter
in candle lit spirit

I'd have never treated you
like the admirals daughter

A Saturday night
Smelling the smoke
In a haze of empty promises
They left her to choke

I'd have never treated you
like the admirals daughter

And then down Speedwell drive

We made plans, solid plans

Mapped out in Leicestershire

My world, your hands

I'd have never sold it to you 

If I didn't mean it

Why did you ever sell it to me?

When you didn't mean it?