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She's got salt in her sighs
With her gas station eyes

Streams of stars in her wake
Made of papier-mache

Her hair is shaped like a pear
And stiff as a chair

Trails of schmutz on her dress
But I do digress

She's got love in her gaze
With a fair-ish bouquet

She's got tired cougar teats
And brontosaurus knees

Watch her walk through a wall
Just to get to your balls

She's imploding the ground
Until you are found

Says the earth will be spared
If your soul is stripped bare

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