I wish I’d had
a couple things
a sense of guilt
or self-preening
I used to go where ever I wanted
Her heart is made of stone
and her teeth are made of pearls

I wanna fuck
a figment of
my imag
gination
I never got around to meeting girls
Her heart is made of stone
and her teeth are made of pearls
and she just won’t wave her arms anymore

An uptempo band plays from the balcony
"She can’t stand fools who think it’s right to be wrong"

A leather jacket
with cotton sleeves
Suburban cheerleader
Destructive streak with out a loving bend
Her name was Anna Golden
She got down to the bottom
of cancer of her brain
She died from it

Anna Golden

There once was a scared little girl who told me that she was going to rule the whole world
But I could see there was a look in her eyes that told me that she was just trying to disguise
to help me realize that even though I’m maligned, I couldn’t suddenly convince her

There was a hole in her
So I was holding her
So I was telling her

Well baby maybe I’m a nihilist, but I’ll tell you what I think is vilest
is a sense of shame borne out of fear for that we can’t hear, and what we can’t see
and what do I need to prove that I’m more empty than you
and that you are interested in death and dying,
not love and lying
Not interest real or feigned
or anything the same
or indelible feelings
or “inoffensive remarks”
or something new
or Madame Nhu

I went back to cemetery town
I went back to cemetery town

Simeon Angel

I’ll carry some
lovely bombs
the sight of which
will light your plomb
Subversive taunts
and borrowed heels
crashing birds
tomorrow steals
a sense of who I am
a hypochondriac or a man

I guess this boils
down to what
they tried to
drill in us
What you do
with what you have
is your choice
but don’t be mad
at my God
viceroy’s hit squad

Please don’t pry, I can’t lie
I brought you here just to see you die
Let me know, I can’t go
I just can’t seem to take it slow

Shadow in her eyes, I can’t hide
broken arms try to stem the tide
I need to leave, don’t be naive
Fuck it, I hate me

In Other Words

P: 1-224-829-6912
E-Mail: jcristo123@aol.com
Tumblr for more info: http://coquettishband.tumblr.com/

"Anna Golden:"

I wish I'd had 
a couple things
a sense of guilt
or self-preening
I used to go where ever I wanted
Her heart is made of stone
and her teeth are made of pearls

I wanna fuck
a figment of
my imag
gination
I never got around to meeting girls
Her heart is made of stone
and her teeth are made of pearls
and she just won't wave her arms anymore

An uptempo band plays from the balcony
"She can't stand fools who think it's right to be wrong"

A leather jacket
with cotton sleeves
Suburban cheerleader
Destructive streak with out a loving bend
Her name was Anna Golden 
She got down to the bottom
of cancer of her brain
She died from it

"In Other Words:"

I'll carry some
lovely bombs
the sight of which
will light your plomb
Subversive taunts
and borrowed heels
crashing birds
tomorrow steals
a sense of who I am
a hypochondriac or a man

I guess that all this 
boils down to what
they tried to
drill in us
What you do
with what you have
is your choice
but don't be mad
at my God
viceroy's hit squad

Please don't pry, I can't lie
I brought you here just to see you die
Let me know, I can't go
I just can't seem to take it slow

Shadow in her eyes, I can't hide
broken arms try to stem the tide
I need to leave, don't be naive
Fuck it, I hate me

"Simeon Angel:"

There once was a scared little girl who told me that she was going to rule the whole world
But I could see there was a look in her eyes that told me that she was only trying to disguise
to help me realize that even though I'm maligned, i couldn't suddenly convince her
There was a hole in her
So I was holding her
So I was telling her

Well baby maybe I'm a nihilist, but i'll tell you what I think is vilest is
   a sense of shame borne out of fear for that we can't hear, and what we can't see
   and what will I need to prove that I'm just more empty than you
   and that you are interested in death and dying,
not love and lying
Not interest real or feigned
or anything the same
or indelible feelings
or "inoffensive remarks"
or something new
or Madame Nhu

I went back to cemetery town
I just went to cemetery town





The Coquettes (band)