BWISE

Confessions

Gone with a fire storm
shut the door, left the town
left her kids behind her now
as she continued, driving round
and her mind has took a beating
by the fist of lovers pride
with the pills, they were misleading
her disease, was the Doctors order
and a stained sense of time,
a stoned state of mind
where we've gotta blow a line
and we've gotta find a sign
When the sun don't wanna shine
and were blamed for all their crimes
Theres no sense of
Pride In Here!
Theres no cry for
Help In Here!
with a punctured heart, its true
from those little things you do
Just calling to see your there
and crying when your not