Bella

Forget all the clowns, that come to woo you, half of them in chains, as loud as your woes, ships blow hooters, every song sings of home, not just in their parlance, but down each avenue , who can fault your tan, you reign without a throne, bars are full of losers, you’d rather be alone, nothing comes by chance, your times are fewer, forget about the past, the barefoot walk on stones, who would ever refute, a life that’s gone, strange this coming down, aboard a Cargo Schooner, no swish of ballroom gown, you’re still a cruiser.