Nobody crows at the lines around a grown man's eyes

Her concrete hands say "girls don't cry"

Crying out at the mirror

A dark window with a lying reflection

Turns out baby doesn't wonder what's on mama's mind

Crows calling loud as ever

From a decommissioned wire

A little grey in the feather

A dead language sounding tired

Big girls walking now, to the fight of her life

Cherry wine on her breath getting stronger through the night

Never read the book her mom left by her bed

Some survivors song, never thought it'd fit her right

Crows calling loud as ever

From a decommissioned wire

A little grey in the feather

A dead language sounding tired