Aletta

Simple folk need their love songs
idiots love an anthem
Dinner bell for the dumb
cattle-call for morons
Repeat a woman’s name
keep your verses vague
Motivate yourself a singalong
Oh, Aletta, you have such nice skin Oh, Aletta, nose-down in a tailspin
Caltrops for your racing thoughts
Spiked pit for your feelings
Your stupid head hunted to extinction
Your wood-paneled brain
stress cracks in the frame
Mold and holes in the drywall
Oh Aletta, you have such nice skin Oh, Aletta, nose-down in a tailspin
The ground tore open
the Devil and I locked eyes
He said, «son, I wanna support ya
but it’s like you don’t even try»
I waited at the pier for you to resurface I waited but you didn’t notice