Irena

I'm thinking of going away, getting out of this place, drink wine see about trains, but i haven't got the Moxi, she makes such generous trades, my friend who sits quietly, asks her Da to arrange, a trailer trash luxury crate, somewhere nice for us to stay, I don't ask why, cars fill up their lanes, I watch them pass by, men who understand rage, kneel to see her again, dance in lonely heart ache, nothing's like being ingrained, with a lover so contained, who paints her face hesitates, sways gently in the rain.