Crows

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