jaywalker

back from where the crowd rains cold

she's letting down the burden

never doing what she's told

living another walden

back to where the cats are kings

she knows it by the letter

all those nights and all those mornings

running it down and under

there she goes

polkadot dress

barefoot on the cobblestones

where is she at

let's take a guess

jaywalking in the streets of rome

she's like a hotline

you can call whether rain or shine

when it looks like nothing is bright

a few words with her and you'll be allright

she is your chatter box

writes you real letters

oh roman goldilocks

she's some upsetter

there she goes

tropical cyclone

barefoot on the cobblestones

looking for saint jerome

jaywalking in the streets of rome

picking up white owl feathers

she buries to keep safe

drinking oil and loving cats

gives her their pur rand their scratch

trees leaves and seashells will make her day

words never come out in miscellaneous ways

roaming along the gaps in the city

greek goddess on the campo dei fiori

scarlet doe in the middle of the prairie

the feline can hear and feel and see