she was hungry so hungry

she was trying to think clear

she kept opening the fridge door

looking at the mustard and the beer

then finally she went out into the rain

carrying her bicycle chain

and her feet worked the pedals

while her appetite steered



after that she just followed her nose

and fate is not just whose cooking smells good

but which way the wind blows



she laid down in her party dress and never got up

needless to say she missed the party

she just got sad

then she got stuck

she was wincing like something brittle trying hard to bend

she was numb with the terror of losing her best friend

but we never see things changing

we only see them ending



and some vicious whispering voice

keeps saying you have no choice

you have no choice



cuz when i look at you i squint

you are that beautiful

and my pussy is a tractor

and this is a tractor pull

i'm haunted by my illicit, explicit dreams

and i can't really wake up

so i just drift in between

thinking the glass is half empty

and thinking it's not quite full



the pouring rain is no place for a bicycle ride

try to hit the brakes



and you slide

and you slide

and you slide