Roaming

She crossed the doorstep

quietly as mouse

never turning back

to keep it out of sight

Her soles worn out

she's going house to house

fearing if she touched

the handles they would bite

And then the night comes down

and there's no shelter

oh, won't you help her?

Ref.:

Every crooked road is said to lead to rome

so she's roaming, roaming far away from home

She's left her footprints

deep in fields of gold

Where noone else would

ever dare to walk

And there the story ends

as it has been foretold

A mirror with a

crumbled piece of chalk

Ref.:

Every crooked road is said to lead to rome

so she's roaming, roaming far away from home

and walking over distance

Oh, would you choose the blisters

or would you be the mistress

with no soul?