West
Armistead Burwell Smith IV / Rob Crow
Take me there to the west
For I've been waiting to see you
Girl looks so sad
Hair slicked back with raindrops
From her walk outside
It's good to be sad, sometimes
No need to hide your doe eyes
Light from the air
Red as the rose wrapped
'Round her feet
Yellow flower cup
Reflects on her chin
Some would pay to know why
Take me there to the west
For I've been waiting to see you
I'd move, I'd move away...
Can't see for sure.
Buckets of blood fall from her eyes
Tears burn right through the floor
No one knows why, or understands
How she can cry in this way
The Episun must have take'd one of her eyes