A story that needs to be told.
Who is that girl on the swing?
Clinging so tight to the rythm of the spin
In a land, in a time
Far away from here
She is seeking a hand,
A place to stay sincere
Who is that women down the road?
Beaten up and slave to a worn dress code,
With a grin in her face
Mud in her hair,
She’s running to late,
Quickly choking her last air
It is not fair
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