Victoria
Porcelain and rafters
Broken glass burnt by the sun
Businesses collapsing onto the landing
What remains in the dust of today, falls
And I try to get something right
Victoria I'm passing through
I'm not OK
I thought you knew
Milk-stained bees buzzing round
Could they behave for now?
And you're pulling like gravity against my wrist
The ticker and the numbers are hot
Your carbon tweed jacket
And briefcase wait for the rounds
Strange, cause I thought I knew where you were from
Victoria I'm passing through
I'm not OK
I thought you knew
Milk stained bees buzzing round
Could they behave for now?
Mmm
Could they behave?
Writer/s: Rie Sinclair