Quiana

Before my fame, I only thought of you, what would you say, shadows pass in blue smoke, against an awful truth, shocked again I'm broke, you always did play, the field of successful tunes, in this different age, at the clubs alone, long lively rooms, stripped me to the bone, inside the best cafe's, flowers and gas lamps bloom, by night and by day, holding a simple note, a loving crowd is soothed, like oven baked scones, It's hardly news.