Run, run like you always do.
2 am and bags packed, eyes half open,
waiting for a train, a bus, another ride,
depend on friends you speak to every now and then
between lovers, losers, and lesser of the like.

To love and leave 'em would be an understatement
then again you have the rest of your life to repent

but what's a girl to do with herself
finding false hope in everyone's arms
and love in any words spoken

but no a safe haven for a fragile heart
Little girl dreams covered in tattoos
No sanctuary in seedy or pricey hotel rooms
Someone's daughter sprawled across your bedsheets

You never look back, never let your mind wander,

or ponder upon how many will, have, shall,

call you their lost love.

05/06/2004