poems

Mary packed her bags and left home on a Christmas Eve
For sea soaked skies and dashing lads with cars
An actress orphaned by the social constructs of her art school
A victim of their esoteric rule
So pretentious that she almost thought it cool
But all you'd hear is
Purpose was a vague ideal that she would always talk on
Till she fell in love with the salesman from TV
Yeah she fell in love with a salesman from TV
While all of hollywood sang
La la la la la
La la la la la la la
La la la la la
La la la la la la la
Pearly pretty prize and a ribbon box of sighs
In a collared shirt
She thought it wouldn't hurt
Certain love of mine with the palest blue eyes
In a collared shirt
I thought it couldn't hurt
Wood flavored kiss taste the concrete of this
It really f**ked with me it really f**ked with me
California eyes are a death witch from design
You really f**ked with me
La la la la la
La la la la la la la
La la la la la
La la la la la la la
La la la la la
La la la la la la la
La la la la la
La la la la la la la