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| She smiles, in spite of... | | She smiles, in spite of... |
| Between blood stained teeth and a broken jaw, she smiles. And stands on her own two feet. She'll drag them down Arch, to the corner of Vine, two blocks from home where her heart still aches. A small town tragedy, the girl in dirty clothes; her hair tied in knots like dreadlocks and bows. The scars on her wrists read like maps of roads, that stretch out to somewhere nobody knows. And oh what she'd give just to travel them all. She smiles, in spite of a world so cold... | | |
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