The Roads

The rivers are shallow,

The city can’t swallow me.

I’m choking on all the dust,

I’m choking on all the lust surrounding me.
I’m walking on all these streets, 

I’m looking at all the things I’ve never seen. 

Some men stop and look at me, 

pull out a gun and say follow me. 
But the roads were never to blame, 

I was shot in the head for my own mistakes.

My dress was too short, my knees were too pretty,

I moisturised them daily.
The bridges are alive, 

we’ve spent almost all day in line.

We’re all out of money, 

are we just paying to breathe around here?
All I see is broken glasses, bus stops 

and corrupted cops. 

I remember some beauty, 

I was so enchanted by all I hadn’t seen.

I think I saw too much, 

I think I’ll drown the cross around my neck. 
But the roads were never to blame, 

my faith was never that strong anyway. 

I believed in right and wrong but now 

all I know is that God is gone 

and our bodies will never be ours.

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