Adriana

Here in an empty Saloon, I play this sad game , It does me no good , shadows make strokes, across dirty window panes, shocked again I'm broke, songs of melancholy hue, drift from the train station, they hang in the blue, St Anthony alone, says loss is sure gain, but when you need loans, who holds the balloon, above table shapes, swallows my perfume, better exist alone, with him gone on 'planes, I look down the road, beyond the Dunes, lying over the break, what happens to truth, does it make waves?