She’s just a tornado with skinned knees
And a pink dress
She has some sort of ship
And a direct line to God
She can tell a good story
But the commander is tired and the rain sometimes , it sometimes never stops falling.
She will tell you about the boys and how they are cowards with swords
And maybe just maybe she’ll tell you that the ocean is a grave yard full of their bones..
There’s a girl with those unusual lips and dark brown eyes, and they all say she is beautiful
But she won’t believe you , because those boys.. those boys..
She has a sailor she calls home,
She has grace to keep her calm,
And she fights, yes.
But if there was a lesson to be learned
It’s in the stories she writes
But we are soldiers hand made by Kings
Is there anyone listening… the line is static…