The juvenile delinquent & the lost girl.

The things that seem so simple, suddenly so far out of reach.

Stranded in the wrong time where love is just a lyric in a children's rhyme.

 The things that stole secrets like lawyers stole cases.

That pale rose skirt, & her hair in a bow.

Screams from the windows, flames from the door. The sirens start to wail, as the rain starts to pour.

We're both just accidents waiting to happen.

Not every one can be as strong as a marionette with spider silk for strings.