i fell in love with the way your eyes stared at my imperfections and how you told me they reminded you of your favorite place to be

the day that you walked out was the day that the bottles we threw finally broke on my face

Houses sitting condemned, taking up the view
while the old guys sit sipping forties in forty degree
temperatures facing the wall so the wind doesn't burn
their faces too much in what could be called a modest December.

They turn their back to the guy hiding bags of rock
in his lips to avoid detection from the cameras posted
on both street corners. This place is set to a constant sneaking
violin pluck. We are all capers in a burgle commune.

I hung up a tarp today so the stray cats can hide from the wind.
In one stanza, January has set in and it is bitter to the bone.
We summoned the name of old man winter from repetition and
no one man may hold that burden. The ***** only warms their blood.

Far Far away she lives
A little disturbed a little curled
Making her way in this big big world
She reads me like nobody else
Pulling me out from my little shells
She tell me things, No one else tells
Ring in my heart , a million bells
She want things
Things I can never give
Far far away she lives
Far far away she lives