There, but for the grace of God, go I
A girl with no name
With a look of desolate embarrassed shame
Laid on a makeshift bed in the quiet alley
But tonight, it's not so quiet
Crowds of well-to-do fortunates
Are making their way to a Concert
A small dog nestles down
Onto a cwtch made of stone
He's her only lively company
On this hellish desolate journey
Whatever is wrong
Here, there is no beautiful song
Society has failed
The girl that's derailed
How many turned to look away from her bed?
How many quiet tears were shed?
How many ignored?
How many cringed?
How many felt guilt seeing her ***** quilt?
How many cared
For the girl with no name
With the look of desolate embarrassed shame?
She's now adopted a blank stare
as she asks "Any change spare?"
So tonight when you turn in, say a little prayer
Because, but for the grace of God, we could be lying there.
Written by Kris Prevel
June 2014
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 5:11 PM UTC
There, but for the grace of God, go I
A girl with no name
With a look of desolate embarrassed shame
Laid on a makeshift bed in the quiet alley
But tonight, it's not so quiet
Crowds of well-to-do fortunates
Are making their way to a Concert
A small dog nestles down
Onto a cwtch made of stone
He's her only lively company
On this hellish desolate journey
Whatever is wrong
Here, there is no beautiful song
Society has failed
The girl that's derailed
How many turned to look away from her bed?
How many quiet tears were shed?
How many ignored?
How many cringed?
How many felt guilt seeing her ***** quilt?
How many cared
For the girl with no name
With the look of desolate embarrassed shame?
She's now adopted a blank stare
as she asks "Any change spare?"
So tonight when you turn in, say a little prayer
Because, but for the grace of God, we could be lying there.
Written by Kris Prevel
June 2014