there's a middle aged woman
she's bundled in scarves, sweaters and jackets to blind her flaws from her soul
so she sees herself as a young child
and from every day to every night she ambulates from 5 to 9
reflecting on her misfortune and her pain
well i think, near and far, when shall i be that old woman covering up my face
and quietly contemplating
so i pour myself a drink til my head forms into streetlights
they usually turn yellow for me to drive a little slower tonight
and from all these roads that look like puzzles as they twist from right to left
and only seem to have that beginning and an end
so just tell yourself that someday you'll be a (?)
a mother to everything that needs
and all raise your hands 'cause there's no faith that'll save our deaths
o we're just all withering like shrubs in the winter
just look back as a child
where those flowers turned into a tiara and earth pronouned you into a queen