A Down And Dusky Blonde - God Help The Girl

I fried my head

I’m not a brunette

I’m a down and dusky blonde

I am living in a tree

When I lie in bed I see

Beyond my lover’s head, the moon

I hear the rain

I am conscious of my voice as a tool

It’s more demure

Tell your friend, the singing queen

With her matinee good looks

She talks like talking from a book

I speak the language of my village

Of my street

But I need a friend and I choose you

I tell you the way I feel

The truth is crushing like a heel

I will forget the kiss and feel

If you will too

It’s a drag that you’re getting old

I like to think about the year

When we sobbed and then we cheered

The town deserted like a film

Your torso crushing me

Into the country and the tunnels

And the fields

I read a book a day like an apple

But I did not eat

And so the doctor came to me

She said «A woman does not live

By the printed word

Forgive yourself and eat»

Autumn sped along outside

Trick photography on speed

I was locked inside a room

They made a deal they would control

The simple things like bodies

But I kept my soul

When I needed someone I chose you

Because the fledgling soul awaits

And on the balcony she quakes

And she is waiting for the sign

And when the brother does not come

And when the sister’s much too young

She chooses you