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Originally Posted by SynthethicalY
Lucy walking down the streets, raising hell,
Her eyes are blue, and black thin hair,
Lips pink and dull, very used,
The mind of this fallen angel is lost, in the haze of time.
Pills take her home, to the dreamscape of her own breakdown,
There no one is real, all made of burning paper,
They are burning in their brilliance,
Coming Down broken-hearted, and cold train wreck.
They wander aimlessly in time, looking for the next ride,
Going down the windblown towns,
Driving their minds and soul into the noise,
And Lucy calling the agents, to stop bringing her down.
Lucy picking up pennies, and throwing it at passerby angels,
Who in return sell her looks through their looks,
She shivers at the white cold stares,
And goes home to the white night light, burning out.
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