Kieron

Gone is the time, that stares straight at you, your Ma's real crime, doesn’t make it easy, what she can’t go through, nothing that pleases, clothes cashmere fine, won’t stamp out her blues, each hint of July, she doesn’t do breezy, why disguise the truth, hates the way you speak, the time you spent inside, uses it like a tool, to sharpen her mind, you shake the car keys, act like her mule, each day is no Odyssey, you’re just in line, to catch more sad tunes, drink that sweet wine, see who’s the fool.