They asked me what I did on my week off
I told them I was busy out front, yea! I was busy shining my ideals
Making them look nice and pretty and prim
All the people passing they'd look in and say in admiration
"My! you got such lovely looking ideals"
I'd smile and nod back knowingly
When they'd gone however I'd go in my back room
I'd smile again then I'd hoist my Jolly Roger.

(Every morning for breakfast I eat a big bowl of moral fibre
Then I mount my pulpit to lecture everyone
"Woe onto you if you do this, woe unto you if you do that"
But during the night when it's quiet and there's no one about
I sneak down the stairs and...ha!ha! I raid the refridgerator).

Reading the front pages
Why? Because you’re beautiful
To an unread poet and Whipping posts away,
It’s untitled leaking..It’s just like water,
An October sky It’s just a memory
A cry for the quiet... Burns A candle
For the lost in translation about Fake love
Falling for If they wanted they would.
I care that Mars is a red planet
I’m still here is A suicide note

I’ll still love you long after
we’re gone.
When we’re just two names forgotten
with time.
Yours will stay wherever mine goes.
Wherever that is.
I’ll find you again.

***** fingernails
and cheap wine.
Fleetwood Mac and chicken tenders.
Snapping you little flirty faces
saying how much I’d like to make out.
Feels like we’re a couple of teenagers drunk in like.

Just a silly girl who can’t wait to see you
and pretend you don’t know what I look like
in the dark.