Myopic Books

All the sweet mouth really wanted

Just fell from her grip

The worst hell you can drag your soul through

Is trying to make all the lies stick



You might as well not make an effort

Lots of bills lying around unpaid

Still I guess some things seem better than

Lying in a bed an old child made



She's got her Walkman on

She's got Chanel Number Five

Look at her walk

She's holding her head upright

Wants to show she's got some pride

To the headlights



All over town people looking for

Their little piece of goodnight

Maybe it's finally time

To turn away from the light

All her sweet mouth really wanted

Was lost in her smile

And her soul just lost the taste that makes

Any good lie worthwhile



I know I never asked you to read their minds

So why did you have to go ahead and do it anyway

You think maybe someday if you're good

They'll let you disappear from the scene

But nothing can hide a beating



She's got her Walkman on

She's got Chanel Number Five

Look at her walk

She's holding her head upright

Wants to show she's got some pride

To the headlights

Doesn't she look good