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Ramona, come closer,
Shut softly your watery eyes.
The pangs of your sadness
will pass as your senses will rise.
The flowers of the city
Though breathlike, get deathlike sometimes.
And there's no use in trying
to deal with the dying
though I cannot explain that in lines.
Your cracked country lips
I still wish to kiss,
as to be by the strength of your skin.
Your magnetic movements
Still capture the minutes I'm in.
But it grieves my heart, love,
To see you tryin' to be a part of
a world that just don't exist.
It's all just a dream, babe,
a vacuum, a scheme, babe,
that sucks you into feelin' like this.
I can see that your head
has been twisted and fed
with worthless foam from the mouth.
I can tell you are torn
between staying and returning
on back to the South.
You've been fooled into thinking
that the finishing end is at hand.
Yet there's no one to beat you.
No one to defeat you,
except the thoughts of yourself feeling bad.
I've heard you say many times
That you're better than no one
And no one is better than you.
If you really believe that,
you know you have
nothing to win and nothing to lose.
From fixtures and forces and friends,
your sorrow does stem.
That hype you and type you,
and making you feel
that you gotta be just like them.
I'd forever talk to you,
but soon my words,
would turn into a meaningless ring.
For deep in my heart
I know there is no help I can bring.
Just do what you think you should do.
And someday maybe,
Who knows, baby,
I'll come and be crying to you.
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