The Lonely Girl On The Streets

The passion lies within me still

I am wrapped in bed sheets and grime

And what is the power of time

When time is never on my side?

And truth tells all

In the middle of the urge,

I find that loneliness is more powerful than time

And trust me,

I don't know the streets all that well

But I've been wondering about them quite often

The pounding of the heart does not reach

The very top of someone's suffering;

Oh the lonely girl on the streets

She wears her suffering to the core

Oh how pretty she is...full blown heart and all

And walking as if she has no soul

For no soul is love in these streets,

Oh how pretty a flower that blooms in these streets

And homelessness deteriorates

Within the suffering of my loins...

And trivial decisions go down on the ground

And splatter such expectations

This rose that is the girl

She bleeds out confessions

And loneliness rides in a car that is vagrant

How may I speak to a gentleman that is pure?

For in my mind I am lonely

But I'm really not pure

Riding between the pages of my mind

And romance is nothing to a lonely girl

When she speaks nothing in return...

And truth prevails in the wondering eye

There is no connection between the minds

Poetically speaking, I am nothing to the world

Take my hand and stroke it delicately...

And you will see my confessions are pure;

And I am the lonely girl on the streets

Searching for company, will you marry me?

Soft and center as silk

I can feel your chills,

And the piano plays intently

My worth is duped;

O Cupid, sing me a song of splendor

Let me hear the sleeping sirens of Reno

I see three thousand angels surrounding me

Hopefully justice will restore me with faith

As there is war in love, and love in war

And I realize that life is self-serving

I do not have the battle to spring any lies

I fall down a barrel of crabs...

Now I'm the crab in the barrel.

Sing me roses of love

But don't rape me out of my will;

I am a crab in the barrel

Therefore I can't be pulled down.

And all the children scream

In the scrape of a hat,

And I am the child that screams...