Four out of twenty-six ain’t bad
This could be a list of my favourite words
Today I am pulling apart my notebooks
I’m looking for the poems that got stuck between the pages
Today I am poetry in a two-chord melody
Cause I’m a fuck up in a dress, yeah I’m your best friend at best
At worst I could be a friend with benefits, without that many benefits really
I’m more a hindrance to your inner peace
And I came too late for Beat Happening
They’d already beat happened
And I came too late for The Mouldy Peaches
They’d already been composted
And I was always too tall
To be the cute one in the squad
And I was always too loud
To be the quiet one you’d have to watch out for
Cause I’m a fuck up in a dress
Yeah I’m your best friend at best
At worst I could be a friend with benefits
Without that many benefits really
I’m a hindrance to a good night’s sleep
And how many constellations do I have to get tattooed on my body
Before I’m a lot less like a woman and a lot more like the night sky?
And how many lyrics do I have to get tattooed on my skin
Before I’m a lot less like a woman and a lot more like a playlist?
Cause I’m a fuck up in a dress, yeah I’m your best friend at best
At worst I could be a friend with benefits, can’t think of any of the benefits really
I’m a hindrance to your inner peace
Four out of twenty-six ain’t bad
This has been a list of my favourite things
Today I am poetry in a two-chord melody
I am the poems that got stuck between the pages
I’m a lot less like a woman and a lot more like the moon