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