Gena

Dancing alone you never say, i am cold in my bones, my daily struggle too late, at least by railway lines, waiting to atone, a thought goes wrong this time, it seems like making crazy, drifting like the Holy Ghost, it’s just my little way, stations don't get you high, or really can't condone, when you start to wonder why, tut as clocks hesitate, eyes hide the inner groan, but still take the strain, I'm beyond any delay, first class ticket or iphone, staying alive by rails, wishing you were home.