I want to cut off all of my hair, down to a Liza Minnelli.
And then when it grows longer, get a loose perm.
I want to go exploring bodies and sit in silence.
And sing in a Smiths band.
And get rid of this nasty angst habit I’ve developed.
And most of all, I’d like a fresh face to complain to about you,
Because all my loves have heard it before
Yet just as the scab settles it gets unearthed again.
Oh how ominous Martha dear! Please, do go dig yourself a hole and drown in high tide.
Well what an interesting rage note. My complements!
