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Steam ghost   The ghosts of leftover heat cling to the nets on her silk lined legs   She tries humility, but everything she’s wearing comes from Rags   And all the men in their cardboarded suits   Empty hands to her they impute   But she, on her Yellow Brick way   Won’t peek a blind she just looks away   Oh, how tall she stands amongst them all   Down her red carpet, how they wait for her to fall   Oh, Baby   ‘Round her finger she has me   And she doesn’t even know it   Why won’t she submit   Down the howling streets where the light don’t sleep, restless, I try not to fight it   And a thousand faces they pass me by in the quick blink of an eye   You can see the night women dangle rabbits feet asking you to pay for their lies   But no, I’d rather pass them by   Not loveless love I‘d idle my time   And it all just makes me realize, so dear   That my baby’s not here   Her card, the Queen of hearts   Howls throughout the night in spades   Her poker face, carved so deep   Oh, she slowly abates   Perched on my stoop, she gets so close, sings beautifully   But when reaching my hand out, she flys away mysteriously   And when bringing his name up   She leaves without an apology   She’s afraid to begin   And she’s still thinking of him   Hiding in a place we’ve all been   Oh, how can I win?   Still I hypothesize   About moving it on   Just like Louis, oh the Sun King   But there’s a hole in my wings      Inside of Hell’s Kitchen, she gins for me a glass of ***   I offered her some, she looked at me and told me “no,” I said “how come?”   “I don’t drink, and nor should you,” she preaches to me as if she really knows   Oh, the “wisdom” of a young crow   She leaves for me a silver heart shaped lock   With no picture, it’s her reminder, there’s no fee for the finder   Like the cars that pass the alley   She’s always there, and always gone   But these visions of that girl   They make them all seem so wrong   Miss Understood has died, they found her all alone by the riverside   A note crumpled in her hand had read, it said no one could hope to understand   The sound of the silent night, it just left me feeling kind of crucified and I’m not too sure why   And, oh, how the way the pavement rolls   Leaves a dozen cracks in my fragile bones   And I prayed to God to please have them sewn   Without her I’m not sure where I’ll go   Just a brown dirt cowboy on a stone cold road   Watching them dig graves in the town of Sodam and Gemorra   And these visions of my baby who’s now long gone   And these visions of my girl   It’s always been for her
0
Nov 27, 2021
Nov 27, 2021 at 12:20 PM UTC
No title can’t think of one
Steam ghost   The ghosts of leftover heat cling to the nets on her silk lined legs   She tries humility, but everything she’s wearing comes from Rags   And all the men in their cardboarded suits   Empty hands to her they impute   But she, on her Yellow Brick way   Won’t peek a blind she just looks away   Oh, how tall she stands amongst them all   Down her red carpet, how they wait for her to fall   Oh, Baby   ‘Round her finger she has me   And she doesn’t even know it   Why won’t she submit   Down the howling streets where the light don’t sleep, restless, I try not to fight it   And a thousand faces they pass me by in the quick blink of an eye   You can see the night women dangle rabbits feet asking you to pay for their lies   But no, I’d rather pass them by   Not loveless love I‘d idle my time   And it all just makes me realize, so dear   That my baby’s not here   Her card, the Queen of hearts   Howls throughout the night in spades   Her poker face, carved so deep   Oh, she slowly abates   Perched on my stoop, she gets so close, sings beautifully   But when reaching my hand out, she flys away mysteriously   And when bringing his name up   She leaves without an apology   She’s afraid to begin   And she’s still thinking of him   Hiding in a place we’ve all been   Oh, how can I win?   Still I hypothesize   About moving it on   Just like Louis, oh the Sun King   But there’s a hole in my wings      Inside of Hell’s Kitchen, she gins for me a glass of ***   I offered her some, she looked at me and told me “no,” I said “how come?”   “I don’t drink, and nor should you,” she preaches to me as if she really knows   Oh, the “wisdom” of a young crow   She leaves for me a silver heart shaped lock   With no picture, it’s her reminder, there’s no fee for the finder   Like the cars that pass the alley   She’s always there, and always gone   But these visions of that girl   They make them all seem so wrong   Miss Understood has died, they found her all alone by the riverside   A note crumpled in her hand had read, it said no one could hope to understand   The sound of the silent night, it just left me feeling kind of crucified and I’m not too sure why   And, oh, how the way the pavement rolls   Leaves a dozen cracks in my fragile bones   And I prayed to God to please have them sewn   Without her I’m not sure where I’ll go   Just a brown dirt cowboy on a stone cold road   Watching them dig graves in the town of Sodam and Gemorra   And these visions of my baby who’s now long gone   And these visions of my girl   It’s always been for her
Inspired by Visions of Johanna
Written by
25/M/USA
Nov 27, 2021
Nov 27, 2021 at 12:20 PM UTC
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