In a village in the middle of lost America
I sit in the corner of the cafe
Writing poetry that tastes of you
I sip on warm memories
Of lust, love, and longing
It’s a bitter brew
That’s somehow sweet
In a village in the middle of lost America
I sit in the corner of the cafe
Writing poetry that tastes of you
I sip on warm memories
Of lust, love, and longing
It’s a bitter brew
That’s somehow sweet
