She flies to Paris, France
I come down in her childhood bed
And write the words I'll one day wish that I had never said
Now all that I became must die before the forum thread
The cursed vultures feed and spread the seeded daily bread
And I guess I found out
What it's like
Oh, I am very young
But I am working
Working on the glow up
I am the richest girl in every room
Mainline to the UE BOOM
They ask me
Why don't you sing with an English accent
Well I guess it's too late to change it now
In the rural American town fairground
I go round and I go round
It's a great wide gulf between intentions and what ground met me
I check my phone and make the sound
Like 'Theme From Failure' performed for just you
Like the new road built out of Black Country ground
I have learned so little
From all I lost in two thousand and eighteen
I think she's still waiting there for us, somewhere
Underneath what we built to keep the waters clean
It's a one size fits all
Hardcore cyber fetish early noughties zine
She sells matcha shots to pay for printing costs and a PR team
She's recently enlightened
And for some reason that phases me
Won't give up
Too soft to touch
And how hard could it really be?
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
