Semi-automatic (dorsal fins)

Pastel colors soothe me
Boys, they think they can use me
I’m wearing the dainty lace
You dropped at the end of my bed
Won’t you take a look at me instead?

Your golden glow is irrational
My love for this country is national
I can always taste liquor on your tongue
I hope you don’t think you’re still alive and young
The roaring twenties have just begun
Touch me like I’m warmer than the sun
Do you trust me to hold on to your semi-automatic handgun

I have a habit of making boys cry
I’ve no idea, I don’t even try
Your living room is smothered in country beige
I’ve come in from the back-house with soft, grey sage
My little author, I see you’ve only written half a page
It’s alright to be shy when you’re at this stage

Bears and beers, so the license plate says
I’m a pretty girl so I’m the server in this place
We go out at night, spot tails and dorsal fins
Ride until I feel my eyes caving in

A lost canyon when I once knew
That I don’t want my little boy to grow up just like you
So I did what all of the other mariners do,

I drowned you.

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