~ alien child ~

Thursday, March 29, 2007

~ crust ~

she didnt seemed to no id seen her before,
she got turned away pushed out the door,
to tired to fight she lives her life all on her own,
shes always in a hurry she got some somewhere to go,
but will she ever get there only heaven knows,
this lady in grey ill wonder if i ever see you again,

ohh she crys, silent tears begin to fall from her eyes,
shes had enough, shes not that tough,
i often wonder what what wrong in her life,

she walk away she would love to stay,
she knows that is gettin late,shes got bills to pay,
the look on her face how can i complain about my life,
she walks away with her heart in chains,
its obvious to anyone that its to late to change,
shes never late how can i complain about my life,

i wondered what her dreams were and what she wanted to be,
i wondered if she had any children and has she seem them latley,
its always to much, she aint even realy got her mind,

i had something in common with this woman i saw i dont no what it is,
but deep down im sure theres more it took a while to see, that parts of me feel just like her,
ohh thats rite, it sure is tough but you just got to survive, shes had enough,and its gettin rough whos gunna miss her whens shes past on by,

she walks away but shed love to stay, she knows that is getting late,
has got her bills to pay, the look on her face i can not complain about my life,
she walk away with her heart in chains,
its obvious to anyone its to just to late to change shes never late,
how can i complain about my life,

i can belive what its like for you, ill never no until im in your shoes, so much more to you than the eye can see so insperational the way you take it all i never new i could learn so much from you,

she walks away but shed love to stay, she knows that is getting late,
has got her bills to pay, the look on her face i can not complain about my life,
she walk away with her heart in chains,
its obvious to anyone its to just to late to change shes never late,
how can i complain about my life, .

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