Walkaways
He is crystal wind
against bare skin
He is frozen rain
that numbs the pain
He is the deep blue sea
raging on inside of me
but nothing changes these days
just the same old walkaways.
I tell him the sun is nice in L.A.
I figure he's always been a walkaway
but what I can't figure to save my soul
is how I lost the precious time love stole.
He's nothing like the rest I've seen
I could linger on but what would it mean?
So take one last look into the haze
sitting distant in some westerly gaze
nothing changes
nothing stays...
just the same old walkaways.
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