Hey, dainty girl flailing on the side of the road. With your great thumb in the air. I hope you don't mind me asking. But what happened to your underwear?.
The studded cinctures were a band. From gloomy Ann harbor, Michigan. And they wrote just for you. These irrelevant tunes. . And with each heart-wrenching, fictitious wail.
Take a seat and catch your breathe. You're only working towards your death. For as the days go by, they go by oh so slow. . But your blonde hair and gaping eyes.