She, compelled by her caffeine
Our mother's lucid dream. Keeper of our keys
Me, the watcher on her wall
Our queen again to fall
Involuntary scene. Vicarious defeat
We aren't like her. They aren't like her
Broken
So go the planes that leave. Survivor on the wing
Longer the longing run. Both worlds left undone
Neither one feels like home built from rubble stone
When all our walls cave in
If only she weren't broken
If only she could leave
I still believe we lay witness to good deeds
But none of us are kings or queens
Just peasant stock fatique
Writer(s): Tommy Denander, James Christian, Fiona Flanagan
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