My baby’s got Curly red hair Shimmering eyes Freckles to spare Likes to play games

I drank a fifth of rum last night It wasn’t worth the morning plight If I could do it all again I’d have eight shots... or maybe t…

Jonathan and Jordan Sitting in a tree M-u-s-s-i-n-g First comes souls Then comes mates

I’ve always been Out on the run I’ve never felt Like had a home And then one day

You create yourself Then see better solutions Cue evolution

If they push you Push back And go for the throat

Old school Playing a groove of the used to Small few Hailed by hipsters and still cool Lo-fi

Not growing, dying That’s just simple facts Take a look at plants Nature’s info packs

Always classy Never trashy Kinda sassy Sweet thing Ashley

You don’t know me You don’t own me You don’t show me Paradise Only tease me

I don’t write poems for poets Flowery language, indulge us I break it down With a simpler sound And anything more would be less

Your face Transcends Garnish

There’s a certain kind of type That always does it right Elicits smiles and tears In the space between your ears The only sort of religion

You’ll have to take It slow with me That’s just the way Things have to be I’m sensitive

There is not a single person In my sorry life That would give a shit or two If I lived or died No one gives the eulogy