she was hungry so hungry
she was trying to think clear
she kept opening the fridge door
looking at the mustard and the beer
then finally she went out into the rain
carrying her bicycle chain
and her feet worked the pedals
while her appetite steered
after that she just followed her nose
and fate is not just whose cooking smells good
but which way the wind blows
she laid down in her party dress and never got up
needless to say she missed the party
she just got sad
then she got stuck
she was wincing like something brittle trying hard to bend
she was numb with the terror of losing her best friend
but we never see things changing
we only see them ending
and some vicious whispering voice
keeps saying you have no choice
you have no choice
cuz when i look at you i squint
you are that beautiful
and my pussy is a tractor
and this is a tractor pull
i'm haunted by my illicit, explicit dreams
and i can't really wake up
so i just drift in between
thinking the glass is half empty
and thinking it's not quite full
the pouring rain is no place for a bicycle ride
try to hit the brakes
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