Crooked

Wind is blowing. Middle of the night.
Nobody can know what I’m knowing.
I’m out of sight.
Taking myself places far away.
Meeting friendly faces with nice things to say.

Trouble in the kitchen. I know that I’m right.
I don’t do any bitching. No time to fight.
That’s when I picture places far away.
All the friendly faces coming my way.

Stealing Satans ethics. Or did she lend?
I find it pathetic but not for me to mend.
So I picture the places Far away.
With the friendly faces coming my way.

I’m not crooked.
I’m not crooked on the world.
I might not look it.
But I’m crooked with a stupid girl.
I might look it.
But I’m not crooked on the world.

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