She was a big girl,
almost buried by her parents.
She lived through more
than most could.
And had a scar for every story
A lover of violence
She had a wave with a bow
While hopping
the freight on the
North
Line
She saw the sights,
met the need of her for the first time
She was tempered and raving head
A cause for constant worry
Fists made out of concrete,
California to the quarter
Her arms were bruised,
her veins like murder
And she just couldn't help it
Some rest was all she needed
A lifetime bender on a broken dime
Shooting dirt on an income of
spare change
She was hell -bent for her home
Her feet hit the pavement
so sore
So in an ancient cab
in on a rainy night
She found no comfort just
Locked doors and two evil eyes
And he said, little girl,
you must be so scared
There's a fire in your place
You know I'd feel the same
But to night is the last you'll walk
these wicked streets
Can you feel it in your body
Tonight you will be dy ing
But she was tamper and raven hair
A cause for him to worry
Fists made out of concrete, sown sparks soon to change to terror,
for in her hand she clenched
a dagger.