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Therapist song

You promised me next summer
I love frozen strawberries
The way you mussed your hair, like you didn’t care
it took you two hours to get it like that
And I’m not gonna hold my breath
I’m asthmatic
but I’ll stand here on that ledge
I’m doing this for you
You promised me next summer
I can imagine what will happen
We will still be lovers, we’ll still be in love
and you’ll be as funny as I remember
But I’m not gonna hold my breath
what if you’ve grown smug
and I’ll stand here on the ledge
but I won’t let go of the railing
I won’t let go of your hand


Next summer

i'm sure i'm not the first
to write a song like this
and i know i won't be the last
and the reason for that is
being left-handed's hard
and mildly inconvenient
i'd rather die alone
and have maggots feast on my bones
mom says, ‘use these scissors’
f*ck you, mom, and f*ck the world
f*ck the corporations that made these scissors
I won’t fit your mold

and what i really hate
is sitting at those desks
and writing across the page
and then the ink smears across your hand

being left-handed's hard
and mildly inconvenient
I’d rather get the gout
or have my cat claw my eyeballs out
being left-handed's hard
and mildly inconvenient
I can’t even play guitar
but I’m pretty sure it’s ‘cause I’m a girl...


lucystoner