Throw Away The Key

26 1 0
                                    

Running my hand across the chain linked fence.
Pocket full of dust not even one pence.
I see others across the pitch.
Living without a care and falling into a ditch.

We both light a cigarette and think about life.
For the grievances of the past were nothing more than a strife.
All my soul feels is light.
Maybe everything will be alright.

Day To DayWhere stories live. Discover now