"She was the girl in that song...

...and? That's it? She was in a song and that's why she's so famous? I mean, she didn't save a country... or invent something great... or murder someone?
Do you know how hard it is to get yourself in a song? Jesus. You gonna eat the rest of those?
But how could a song make her a legend?
She'd have been a legend with or without that goddamn song."

She possibly has the prettiest eyes but I can not hold them to focus for long enough to tell, so...I yawn, grumble; is it dawn yet in your home town?
In turn, I ask her; girl, where should you be right now?
Who could sleep on this season, I question; and would they keep as tired and busy as a mad old dog?
I can not be taught new tricks as she would like so instead I teach her stubborn and I shy away, everything I know about silence becomes apparent at this time of the day.

Her attitude is both terrible and beautiful, I imagine the way you once or twice may have seen a fully functioning face behind a mask or facade; a feeble device indeed.
This invariably, inevitably, turns me on...and with warm blood flows a miserable interpretation of love, lust or trust.

Damaged goods, raised poorly; I love my family because...