Carmen Ghia
Black hardtop
Stick shift
I learned stick on the fly
Flew off the road into the forest
Fucking stick
Radio blasting whether I’m alone or with a barfly
Hollywood streets are dark at closing time
Not like New York
Must be real late
After work I stay to throw back a few with some die hard
The restaurant’s dark
I’m lit
I scream with the radio ‘What I like About You’
Check the real view mirror to see if my make up is running
Fucking mascara
Always leaves extra black shit around my eyes
Smearing my forefinger under my lid takes care of that
My vision gets sketchy
Might have poked myself
I’m driving down some street
Where am I
The world goes blurry
Like crossing my eyes to get a laugh
It’s that toy that flashes photos in binoculars with a click
Click
Parked cars appear closer
Click
Parked cars go away
Click
White line on my side of the road
Click
White line vanishes
Click
Now as far as I hear death treats everyone alike
Death doesn’t care if I’m young or old
Pretty or plain
Girl or boy
I mean we all have a candle lit just for us
when it burns down
Click
I’m driving in the wrong direction down a one way street
Click
I don’t remember how I found my way home
Click
Death doesn’t care if I write poems
Click
I wake up in a strangers bed
Click
Hand on my ass
Click
I tell stories I can’t remember
Click
I walk home without my coat
Click
I throw up on my boyfriends bed
Click
I fall down and stay
Click
Click
Click
Death doesn’t care if I’m rich or poor
Religious or heathen
Straight or bi
Head pounding
Tummy hurts
I’m still high
Room spinning
Regrets surface
Deals made
I’m a piece of shit
Death doesn’t take to pleading
Death doesn’t see my soul
Death doesn’t care at all
I’ve wanted to die
To be taken from misery
Death isn't very smart
I didn’t die
Some people are too mean to die
Is that me
Some are too tricky
Is that me
Others are too stupid
Is that me
Click
Black hardtop
Stick shift
I learned stick on the fly
Flew off the road into the forest
Fucking stick
Radio blasting whether I’m alone or with a barfly
Hollywood streets are dark at closing time
Not like New York
Must be real late
After work I stay to throw back a few with some die hard
The restaurant’s dark
I’m lit
I scream with the radio ‘What I like About You’
Check the real view mirror to see if my make up is running
Fucking mascara
Always leaves extra black shit around my eyes
Smearing my forefinger under my lid takes care of that
My vision gets sketchy
Might have poked myself
I’m driving down some street
Where am I
The world goes blurry
Like crossing my eyes to get a laugh
It’s that toy that flashes photos in binoculars with a click
Click
Parked cars appear closer
Click
Parked cars go away
Click
White line on my side of the road
Click
White line vanishes
Click
Now as far as I hear death treats everyone alike
Death doesn’t care if I’m young or old
Pretty or plain
Girl or boy
I mean we all have a candle lit just for us
when it burns down
Click
I’m driving in the wrong direction down a one way street
Click
I don’t remember how I found my way home
Click
Death doesn’t care if I write poems
Click
I wake up in a strangers bed
Click
Hand on my ass
Click
I tell stories I can’t remember
Click
I walk home without my coat
Click
I throw up on my boyfriends bed
Click
I fall down and stay
Click
Click
Click
Death doesn’t care if I’m rich or poor
Religious or heathen
Straight or bi
Head pounding
Tummy hurts
I’m still high
Room spinning
Regrets surface
Deals made
I’m a piece of shit
Death doesn’t take to pleading
Death doesn’t see my soul
Death doesn’t care at all
I’ve wanted to die
To be taken from misery
Death isn't very smart
I didn’t die
Some people are too mean to die
Is that me
Some are too tricky
Is that me
Others are too stupid
Is that me
Click