Yolanda

If i'm not too spaced, i'll dance with you, each evening until late, swept up by your jib, melted lemon blue, your greased hair and whispers, I walk down fallen lanes, my Ma says stay true, she doesn't know your ways, your tone insistent, our trips to secret venues, a temperature consistent, smellbound in a haze, i'm lucky to have virtue, nothing's laid to waste, you turn towards my sister, she's not my running mate, don't kid yourself mister, she can really hate.