Sugarmask

Amy’s bones protrude
She is lyin' in the nude
Smoke and faint scent of perfume
In the early afternoon
With her Sugarmask still on
From her party until dawn
Grabbed from the bargain bin
At the sale on the lawn
Well, Harlan whispers
«Baby, I don’t mean to stray, but I cannot be true»
I tiptoed out the way I came
One and one don’t always make it up to two
Delineated and defined
Sometimes «to live"—it means «to die»
And some of us still get
Somehow you die just to survive
Like when Clare—she whispered
«John, I did not mean to stray, but I have not been true»
I tiptoed out the way I came
One and one don’t always make it up to two
Oh, hangers-on
Find someone else, you hangers-on
Amy’s bones protrude
She is lyin' in the nude
Smoke and faint scent of perfume
In the early afternoon