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She's lost she's late
She's zooming on a couch somewhere
Or high or home
I'm not supposed to call her there
I wait I smoke
I stare into my coke
It's happening again
I tell myself that it's over and done amen
Her skin like milk
It's like she's never seen the sun
Some hearts to crunch
Is more like her idea of fun
I know she's ill
I'm cruising for a spill
I'm hanging just the same
I need to be in the heat
Of her cold white flame
Another menhera girl
At the edge of the frame
Deliciously toxic
The original classic thing, more of the same
