Sunday, October 01, 2006
Frammentare
She’s got stones in her pocket
She the type of girl who makes a guy with sisters go crazy
She was born to make life smooth
Light, motes, and air filter through a screen
She wants people to like her
She’s got stones in her pockets and flowers in her hair
Protect and serve
Tarnished halos of Sisyphean weight, to hell with societal rights and wrongs
She needs to stop looking for something that isn’t there
She needs to feel better
She’s got stones in her pockets and flowers in her hair and thought of the yesterdays for sustenance