single mothers

Baby, we’ve seen a lot tougher times then
These,
She’s burning through money faster then
kerosene
She said
I was pulling up my skirt
Then
I was scrapping up my knees
In between
The motorbikes and epitaphs
And names in the
Obituary

I said,
‘oh you don’t say..’

She put the money in the glove box
And got a Kleenex for the nose bleed

I think it it’s time to get outta this city,
I think its time we blow this scene