Why Stars Have To Hide

Missy, my sweet November Nova

You wrote the tune in your California eyes

I was stolen on the outskirts of your heart

with a burning in my thoughts, and my wet candle in Nirvana

Ah, you be theatrical in the parkway slumbers of Spring

You tried to call me out but I was ashamed

They've got me wearing trenchcoats again

and adding gloss to my cover sheet skin

I could never come close to understanding the ones not in hiding

I have no soul anymore but the one in memory

Bring me my food...and bring me my water

Such a wonderful daughter!!

View new_wave_franky's Full Portfolio