Hi. New here, heres one of my lyrics.
Mrs. Jones
She orders water with ice and lemon,
Puts a pound in for help for heroes.
Reads the paper, like she's somebody famous,
In her sun glasses for an hour.
And everybody there knows Mrs. Jones,
Coming back from church on her way home.
Lottery ticket keeps the place in her bible,
Eyes bloodshot from the night before.
She recycles her cans and her bottles.
Sometimes sleeps on the bathroom floor;
The tiles, her bed, the toilet her pillow,
Something inside her broke her funny bone.
Chain smoking away all of her problems,
Helping old soldiers across the road.
And everybody there knows Mr Jones,
Praying that she'd shut up.
Wakes up with her head down the sink,
Blaming everything else but the drink.
Gets the bus to the god rock show,
Cos nobody will give her a lift.
Raises her hands and wonders why
Nobody comes to help her get right.
Gets a lift home with some pastor or other,
Who wants to lay with her tonight.
