Trash has feelings too
I found my love on the side of the road
Between Sitges and Girona.
She had no name nor clothes to wear
So I simply called her Donna.
On a stone cold rock and a plain white towel,
Unprotected from the sun,
That beat down hard from the Spanish sky,
She was helplessly undone.
Now she is probably not the kind of girl
You bring home to your mother,
But she could have been dropped off somewhere
Or passed on to another.
Thrown in the gutter by an ill mannered trucker,
Who didn’t have a clue,
About how to treat a woman - in print or in the flesh -
And that trash has feelings too.