wow, why isn't everyone just so handy dandy and there are so many ideas flourishing
but my skirt hasn't gone well above the knee, and the fragrances haven't wafted up into my nose
like they used to my dear
and my fishnet stockings wrapped around my legs wrapped around your legs with your heavy jacket, gloves, hats, scarves and boots damn the summer and the chatter
for they have been replaced with
north hollywood dance parties quinceneras and such and their music wafting in the neighborhood, way after hours and I always wake up to the Mariachi
always waking up to the Mariachi
laughing my head off
laughing my head off
why don't I always feel this happy?
why do i sometimes feel so angry?
why can't I just listen to you and be happy even when I am so damn groggy
"it's nothing a full nights rest won't cure,"
I can't even get myself to attend any of the functions I normally would
and I have only myself to blame for we do what we want
and you do what I want, within reason
don't be a bitch Motor Wilson
you're just tiring of the jeans and the jeans and the blue blue jeans
and you just need some sleep
and of course you have slowed down quite a bit
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