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Toad The Wet Sprocket Pale She Cried solitaire, such a fateful game she turns her cards and writes her name on the napkin mow she turns another card she dreams about the house and romance he promised but won't deliver she waits alone with dried out hopes and dormant phone she waits for years and fantasies melt new ones appear but they won't help and again she catches him eye pulls away with light too dim she calls his name and runs around but he was faster all alone in a bad part of town she waits again with dried out hopes and things made for him a little ride, a little fun was all he held her tight, got tired and then let go the strain on her heart she believed a lying blackheart painted with promises then he left her on the floor with only the mirror to curse "should've known better" but how she cried... ------------------------------------------------------------ Typed by Lloyd Murray lam6057@isc.rit.edu -- |
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