Two can be friends, when one has married, and the other was just raped
Neither poses a threat, wrapped in their yellow police-tape
Still she is lonely, and confides in a man of God, too old to understand
Unable to feel her tears, when they are so different from this man
And the girl with even more pain and is almost her sister
Battles on in a crystal ball, that foretells the younger one's future
The father know no truth, of how his girl lives now
But then he never gave a damn anyhow
And those she works with, dip pointed tongues in poison
Stabbing down her confidence and self-worth without any reason
Gossip tells her little tale, the stigma that sums up what she is
So many issues, she should've been in show biz
It's fate's female tragedy, that coils away in sole mourning
People in her life still too far away for reaching
The semi-warm words that yet make her sulk
She laps up eagerly, like a hungry kitten put before milk
But it isn't good enough, and cannot make a silvery soul unbent
When after all, the girl is lactose-intolerant. |
