This is the story, of a post modern museInternationally minded, with nothing to loseShe was young, hanging out, nobody waiting at homeHer name was passion, she was the enemy of loveAnother fading beauty on the sunset stripx4When our muse abused, of a few substancesHer reputation was cut into piecesWatching the sky where the true stars belonged toShe knew if the sun goes down, it goes up tooAnother fading beauty on (1 more message)