It was an old woman
a pie in each hand,
she lent me a horse
to ride through the rain
I lost my horse
in the back of her yard
once mounted, the hail came
and they were woried about my back...
I made it home, to a womans hand
she kissed me goodnight
on a bed on the ground
I awoke on the second floor
at first with a smile
shortly a frown

Can't belive this
factory of contradictions.
a flowing pen,
a cammera lens,
broudcast comunications.
say what you can to collect your tickets.