Yosa

Place south east of Baltimore, what it means to be, outside fire know the score, no windmills on hills nearby, just a dirty little creek, what do you expect to find, measure wine or the law, you can’t wriggle easy, from this institutional core, there's a collective cry, why build places like these, the waste they describe, certainly don't you moan, or try to seem deep, to take life on the jaw, she listens to the roar, her family on the cheap, she is going home, she wishes by the sea.