I saw the streets all ripe with jewels,
balconies and the laundry lines
They tried to make me welcome there,
but their streets did not feel like mine
So long, I’m goin’, goin’ home.
I’m not sad, but the boys who are looking for sad girls always find me. I’m not a girl anymore and I’m not sad anymore. You want me to be a tragic backdrop so that you can appear to be illuminated, so that people can say ‘Wow, isn’t he so terribly brave to love a girl who is so obviously sad?’ You think I’ll be the dark sky so you can be the star? I’ll swallow you whole.
you, lovely you.
but I’m pretty, right?