LYRIC FOR SALE

By BRIDGE OF ANGELS

She's moving like a Diva
In her high rise, inner city home
Her dance floor just a tiny kitchen
Music fills her troubled mind
From the speaker on her phone.
Her children sleep close together
The fridge almost empty now
She is cartwheeling around the floor
Like a spiralling falling feather.

*Chorus*

No time left on her side
She still dances as if nothing else matters
Wishes that someone would wrap their arms around her
Before her morning alarm clock shatters.
Forgets about everything that has brought her here
The bad decisions so often taken
The sounds that fill her head
For a trapped life so forsaken.

A magazine on a coffee table
Of the perfect woman
Photo shopped to perfection
She pours out the last vodka.
From the door in her refrigerator.
Sees her broken self- reflection.
She knows in the morning
The men in black will surely come
To take away everything
With little sympathy for what she has become.

*Chorus*

No time left on her side
She still dances as if nothing else matters
Wishes that someone would wrap their arms around her
Before her morning alarm clock shatters.
Forgets about everything that has brought her here
The bad decisions so often taken
The sounds that fill her head
For a trapped life so forsaken.

For now she is consumed in beauty
Distracted in her high rise dance.
Stepping across her chequered linoleum
Like a show girl in a trance.
Escape measured by minutes
She can steal to heal a soul
Stuck here with no way out
Shakes her unkempt tresses from side to side
For a fleeting opportunity to feel alright.

*Chorus*

No time left on her side
She still dances as if nothing else matters
Wishes that someone would wrap their arms around her
Before her morning alarm clock shatters.
Forgets about everything that has brought her here
The bad decisions so often taken
The sounds that fill her head
For a trapped life so forsaken.