Coattails
She’s walking away with her nose pointed up,
pointed up rather high, up to the sky.
She’s walking away with her long fingers,
fingers pointed down, to the ground.
She’s got sleek pants on, tinted red, monochromatic,
red heels, tall posture, she’s walking quickly.
Her coat, it has tails. I’m grabbing her by the coattails.
She’s walking away and I’m holding on for some reason,
I’m being dragged by the coattails.
She turns around, sees me being dragged along there.
Smacks me with her purse, she does.
She sends me flailing high up for a moment there,
just enough so I let go and I land back on the ground.
She’s got a fancy hat on, a hat to match her coattails.
A rich hat, an I don’t care hat, a she’s fancy hat.
She walks quickly in her heels, nose pointed up.
Doesn’t want me grabbing on her coattails, no way.
I’m crying on the ground pulling my skin apart.
Is she beautiful? What if I run the other way?
Hey, follow me! Why doesn’t she follow me?
Because her nose is up to the sky with finger nails pointed down.
She’s walking fast in those heels, fancy hat.
No time for me. Why would she have time for me?
I’m a pile of clothes running in the other direction.
I’m a mess of a memory. I’m a useless story.
I’m holding her back, she smacked me with her purse.
Look at her, walking so fast, but she can’t see me.
She’d have to stop to see me steeping here, folding socks.
Mundane tears, slow moods, piles of blankets.
I don’t walk away from nothing. I keep my nose spinning around.
Why is she so direct? Where does she think she’s going?
Just another ship sailing, boat floating, turn-around...
Another train gone, bus missed, bus taken, waiting…
Can’t stop, won’t stop, where’d she go again?
She’s walking away with her nose pointed up,
pointed up rather high, up to the sky.
She’s walking away with her long fingers,
fingers pointed down, to the ground.
She’s got sleek pants on, tinted red, monochromatic,
red heels, tall posture, she’s walking quickly.
Her coat, it has tails. I’m grabbing her by the coattails.
She’s walking away and I’m holding on for some reason,
I’m being dragged by the coattails.
She turns around, sees me being dragged along there.
Smacks me with her purse, she does.
She sends me flailing high up for a moment there,
just enough so I let go and I land back on the ground.
She’s got a fancy hat on, a hat to match her coattails.
A rich hat, an I don’t care hat, a she’s fancy hat.
She walks quickly in her heels, nose pointed up.
Doesn’t want me grabbing on her coattails, no way.
I’m crying on the ground pulling my skin apart.
Is she beautiful? What if I run the other way?
Hey, follow me! Why doesn’t she follow me?
Because her nose is up to the sky with finger nails pointed down.
She’s walking fast in those heels, fancy hat.
No time for me. Why would she have time for me?
I’m a pile of clothes running in the other direction.
I’m a mess of a memory. I’m a useless story.
I’m holding her back, she smacked me with her purse.
Look at her, walking so fast, but she can’t see me.
She’d have to stop to see me steeping here, folding socks.
Mundane tears, slow moods, piles of blankets.
I don’t walk away from nothing. I keep my nose spinning around.
Why is she so direct? Where does she think she’s going?
Just another ship sailing, boat floating, turn-around...
Another train gone, bus missed, bus taken, waiting…
Can’t stop, won’t stop, where’d she go again?
