dust bowl

pretty boy

natural blood-stained blond

with the holes in his sneakers

and his eyes all over me

drive-in slasher flick again

feeling me up as a porn star dies

he’s watching me instead

8th grade death pact strike me dead

all of alabama laid out in front of your eyes

but all you could see was me

you walked in, you were singing

you tried to wade in cause you wanted

just to tell me who you were

you were kind, dying to tell me

you’ll wait if i have to make sure

grew up hard, fell off harder

cooking our brains smoking that shit your daddy smoked in vietnam

you’d be a writer

if he didn’t leave all his hell for you

saying if you could, you’d leave it all

i knew it was love

when i rode home crying

thinking of you fucking other girls

and when you

said that you’re in love

i never wondered if you’re sure

pretty boy

consumed by death

with the holes in his sneakers

and his eyes all over me