Emily Two

A cross for a pub, to where we drink wine, she gives me a shove, the deals behind Primark, to taste is no crime, let’s go of my arm, she looks up above, lost in her time, the year she got bust, hair like a jump start, she hasn't a dime, no one takes her part, we meet in a club, initially fine, who gives a fuck, never easy or calm, raised by great signs, she’s a wandering star, lays down lost looks, to everything wise, asks me to rub, the pain in her side.