Smoke stained dress

She's a girl with minor depressions,

With no intentions of following the way of the world.

She's a girl who sits with cigarette flies,

And corn flake lies,

Under close marmalade skies.

She's a motor running high,

With pit stop cries,

Who hangs herself, by a thread of a knife.

She's an angel, when the devil's the sky,

She a seraphin among the fires,

She's a known right, a stone fight,

When all I can see is to hide.