black world

sorry the timing is a little off...
I really don't have the ability to be all that musical.
But enough of my excuses.

She wants to be an explosion with painted lips
The heart in her chest is thin as ice
She likes to play with the babies and fingertips
Mixing the maggots along with the rice

She wants to play and to laugh and to smile now
dancing with stars and shadows and ghosts,
she'll get through this, this mess she made somehow
of broken glass mirrors and soggy french toast

She really hates days like Sundays,
the girls in the white, boys in black,
a cat and a mouse
a wife and a spouse
And then there is no turning back.

She wants to be an elegantly painted kiss
She's played the game of hide-and-seek all her life
She doesn't know of a place where love exists
She's more afraid of liars than of a knife

She wants to live and to run and to hold hands
Skipping through jungles of concrete and dust
she wants to find someone who understands