Your face at the bar, you crashing my car
And the first that I knew, was that picture of you. Pinned down by the wiper, impaled by the rain Six simple letters that spelled out your name.
A note on the dashboard, a print on the door Lipstick on your collar, a ring on the floor.
A shattered wing mirror, the deisel used up
The smell of burning petrol, a crushed coffee cup. You wrote :
I’ve been there, done that, and I know that it’s hard But all I’m leaving, is my Calling Card.
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