Ulla

Waiting for the train, a cloudy day a breeze, there's a tidal spray, you never really own, what's gone to seed, in these solid Ocean towns. long journeys nerves frayed, its gone half past three, he won't wave goodbye again, am cool but turn , when he closes the gate, still feel my stomach churn, me who'll take the blame, through windows in the rain, looking out over the Bay, me who shouts too firm, he'll always make me pay, let him go and burn, love in stupid ways.