Dolly

Waiting for the train, an ordinary day, late, sometimes it’s hard to pray, the Loco is shining steel, gone half past eight, does anyone care how she feels, she makes the glass dilate, a cool yet burning rage, the carriage window the same, who writes the deeds, to make everything great, make somethings seem real, she’ll take the blame, . there is still a heartbeat, from yesterday’s shame, she's going to leave, her face shows the strain, she’ll give no signal, there is no need.