I can talk about my bed
and it will still be broken,
and that is why I cannot sleep at night, you said 'you should hold on to me',
I can bitch about my head
that's cracking open like an egg
and I'll tell you babe
if that yolk tastes alright
(i never was too keen on the whites) yeah you said
'you should hold onto me'
you can cry about your
heart, and it will still be broken,
and that is why you cannot sleep at night,
and I can buy milk with my laundry quarters,
and the fridge will still be broken,
and the 2% I bought last week
will go sour,
and mom will call on the landline
that is not mine
and run up the bill
and so I'll be snippy
and that will piss her off
cause she thought of me at the bakery
back home
looking at the heart shaped shortbread she used to get me after school,
and it's my fault but
i will still cry about it,
and then it will be sour and salty,
sorry that the fridge faulty,
maybe you should
hold on to me.
