Francine Three

Says I’m going nowhere, won’t stay afloat, paints my face dead slow, scrapes away at bone, has an Italian home, is always on the go, knows I’ve suffered you know, Paris and New York, but keep a cheerful tone, since our time in Rome, men with iPhones, crowd around my door, you should have seen Palermo, Linguini exorbitant loans, I really did glow, but where in his show, do I throw away my soul, everyone I meet’s called Joe, another twist of the rope, I'm better than this dope, who hasn't got a hope, what he calls our home.