Sunday, January 9, 2011


you've got a quick snap-lock on your cold, cold heart 
you've got your YSL kicks and a red birthmark
in the shape of Canada
that you try to keep a secret

you've got a quick, clack walk and a cold, hard stare
and if your eyes could talk, they'd say they just don't care
because they wander off
to hide inside their sockets

you've got your scars and you've got your birthmarks
you've got Toronto hiding on your hip, honey
you've got your secrets, you've got your regrets
darling, we all do

you've got a foolproof plan for a lonely life
you won't be no one's daughter and no drunk's wife
if a wife at all
it's a silly institution and so you keep resisting

you're cool coy, 'bout to stroll, very hip
it's you that's hidden by the expectations
we want to see you, won't you show us where to start?
you're talking trash with your red liquor lips
it's you that tickle in the conversation 
sweet betty, won't you show us who you are?

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