GinasCaravan
A sailor and a gypsy walk in to a bar…
Empty
A hungry stomach that food won’t fill
Smiles with-out teeth and always going uphill
Does the sun come out with the shades always closed
Glass is very empty there’s never a half full
Blank walls a staring, no stories to be told
Come closer she whispers, and fret not my friend
The sun is always shining
With that glass in your hand.
GinasCaravan 