No cookies with mold in a soiled state of mind
Charming desperation and I leave 25 notes on your phone
Text messaging comes from Satan
And my car has gas enough to drive to your apartmnent
Compartmentalize my grotesque psyche and call it what it is
Just a weird girl
Just a passing moment
And I get mad because you don’t really want me but I make it so convenient
Nothing convenient can be good
Eg. Donuts, side of the highway shop stop for cigarettes and Frito Lays,
internet porn, network sitcoms, and canned beans
Everything good is hard to get
And so is that why I like you?
And is that why I think you’re so good?
You sit up there in your third floor loft and maybe toss down a key once in a while
So lucky me if I get in and make you kiss me
It’s really all just so funny (with a stupid laugh)
But oh, those times you buy me lunch and bite me in secret places
Even if we don’t actually fuck
I’m sickly kean on being your bitch
And waiting at your feet
For you to throw me the occasional bone