The Girl Who Lives At The End Of The Street

Do you know the girl who lives at the end of the street?

Her voice is quiet and oh so sweet.

Surely you’d remember her if you ever had the chance to meet her;

It’s hard to miss her strawberry hair and

Dilated pupils that swim through ice blue eyes.

She dresses slightly odd

And her shoes are falling apart,

But there’s poetry screaming from her heart

And a silent film in her eyes;

The very eyes with which she’s afraid she cannot see well enough from so

She looks at the world through an old camera lens

And buries her nose in the comforting scent of a book

When reality starts to feel too much like a dream.

 

Have you seen the girl who lives at the end of the street?

Her voice is quiet and oh-so-sweet,

And when she sings it’s always slightly off key

But she gives the melody a whole new meaning.

She’s spent her life trying to write the perfect poem

Until eventually she became one –

She speaks in rhymes and

Pays her way in dimes

Found under the cushions of the couches she sleeps on.

She writes letters to strangers

And drinks too much tea,

But I promise you won’t regret

Meeting the girl who lives at the end of the street

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