She was sixteen going on fifty

I'm not quite sure exactly

what that means

But her speakers screamed Sinatra

and the Zombies

Her hair hung red around her

ripped blue jeans



She said she was Jim Morrison

incarnate

A psychic on La Brea told her so

She asked me if I ever read Lolita

She took my hand and lead me to

her door

And she said ...

Let's go to my room

I'll show my posters

Let's go to my room

I'll show you I'm a lover

She locked the door behind me

She lit a candle

Then blew it out said the moon

would do just fine

The lizard king and T. Rex for wall

paper

Above her bed hung a

No-Parking sign

She asked me if I liked her

decorator

As she stripped behind a wall of

raining beads

I woke up with her pillow and her

diary

She took her bath as I began to

read

And she said ...



Let's go to my room

I'll show you my posters

Let's go to my room

I'll show you I'm a lover