How else am I supposed to hate?
Cars headlight through the city
And I’ll tell you:
Am I sweet?
Cars headlight through the city
Let me be your fancy bag lady
Am I sweet?
Is it the size that is the matter?
Let me be your fancy bag lady
And there we sit for a thousand years
Is it the size that is the matter?
Dyed glass in windowed breasts.
And there we sit for a thousand years
And I’ll tell you:
Dyed glass in windowed breasts.
How else am I supposed to hate?