I stood on the street, in the drizzling rain.
The brick roads are slippery in this ambiguous town.
No one took notice. No one around.
Except umbrellas and bicycles, pa**ing without a sound.
The one whose skin meets concrete,
whose daugther is this girl?
Her name is tagged all over town
on skin and concrete.
A pink , french balcony. The light inside was dim.
Reflections of motion dancing on the curtains.
One window half open so I whispered to him.
But it was she who opened , a girl of my age, about 15.
The one whose skin meets concrete
Whose daugther is this girl?
Her name is tagged all over town
on skin and concrete
So I wont forget her.
So I wont forget her.
Get her.
I stared like a child .Thank you innocence.
I asked pale, naked girl what she did down on the floor.
The answer she gave me
at the time, made no sense:
"Take your eyes off me
while I inject my indifference."
The one whose skin meets concrete
Whose daughter is this girl?
Her name is tagged
all over town ,
on skin and concrete
So I wont forget her.
Did you long for that last shot ?
Was it good to forget?
Did they buy you a nice coffin
with red roses on?
And when someone wonders :
"What happened to your lovely daughter?"
They will simply say:
"She just slipped away."