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"Whatever, so it seems" Pluck me now, my proud feathers, all the better My life's wetter Lay me down in a field of heather Angel's in for stormy weather Wings of black suede dated pleather Remember you made me, well, whatever Whatever baby, so it seems Took away just a few more today Let's talk because there is so little left to say Tell me, I'll listen anyway She's not so rare a doll, so it seems Strawberries floating in bowls of sweet cream You keep the blanket; I don't want to play Keep it in your truck For little Miss Hand Me Down anyway Just remember, when she bites the hand that pays Babe, you made her that way, you say which or whether Whatever, so it seems Keep telling yourself it's cloud and not steam Hold your eyes tight to the high beams Whatever, honey, so it seems More than today and less than tomorrow, all your dreams Dumped out of that rusty can of sorrows You possess only that which grows outside the seams Don't forget, when I'm ugly and dangerously mean Whatever, you made me No maiden You madden me So it seems Between black stitches and lusterless sheen I tried to show you what grew behind the curtain But you, in all your wisdom, you were so damn certain So it seems, you loved the lies Your fingers still sticky from that jar of flies Living off a comb from a busy hive You saw what you wanted to see to get by So it seems, I'm not so clean Whatever... Squeaky means tequila, rock-n-roll leather So it seems Horrors on the nighttime screen You're disappointed, so, Sew its seams
Stephanie S. Garcia August 13,2004
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