Martina

Is this really the place, to start to cry, when even love's ashamed, ways around you show, the beat of your time, there's nowhere else to go, soaked on the ocean main, the desolate airlines you fly, you never try to calculate, what you need to know, no longer sails the sky, wooden box or lonely blow, you once jumped bail, county lines safe to climb, beyond the spike of jail, your lips can't atone, news to my constant lies, or see a heart grow cold, it's not easy to explain, what's going on inside, seeing pain across your face, your eyes full of why?