She didn't need a feather to fly
She had her own kind of wings
You could see her high
In her eyes
But her sky was the streets
Fly on by
Pretty Angel
Sell your soul for a wing
You could fly
Higher and higher
With the magic of speed
She didn't need a feather to fly
She had her own kind of wings
You could see her high
In her eyes
But her sky was the street
Fly on by
Pretty Angel
Soaring high to be free
Sell your soul to the devils trolls
To reach the sky you need
She didnt need a feather to fly
She had her own kind of wings
You could see her high
In her eyes
But her sky was the streets
Fly on by
Pretty angel
And flap your wings

.
Impenetrable silence greets
as disappointment inside sweeps,
prey to another false start,
a fire needle to the heart.

And the secret twitch of an eye muscle
reveals the depth of pain in rejection,
the shame of being considered disposable
or a stop on the road to perfection.



© Pagan Paul (22/04/19)

I saw that dress
             You wore
         On another girl
That loved me more

If maybe just for a minute
                           It lasted four

A different highway
                      Of curves

Without directions

                Same black dress
With different attractions

I calculated it all

Additions
                    Subtractions

The way she moves
   Versus your habits

            Same black dress
With ridiculous passion

Capricious
                       ******
       Advertisement

Mmm¡

           The way she walks
     That black dress talks
About how you're nothing

                 And me she wants

Every step of that mellifluous dress
Was melodic and harmonic
                   With the way I drift

     That dress you wore
On some other woman
              Some other lady

Obsequious to my roar

Gallavanting around town
                                On my arm

I saw that dress
             You wore
On another girl

And that's how I
Forgot your name