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Kitty

“The fact that I can plant a seed and it becomes a flower, share a bit of knowledge and it becomes another's, smile at someone and receive a smile in return, are to me continual spiritual exercises.”*


― Leo Buscaglia

I'd rather risk her knowing the truth
Than lose her.

You are totally ruined
From your head to your shoes
You’ve got a crippling case of
The Spoiled Baby Blues.
When you don’t get your way
That’s when you always choose
To sing your own arrangement of
The Spoiled Baby Blues.

You’re alone most every night.
You call people up on the phone
Things just ain’t going right
But still you sit home alone.
Your life would be better
If you had somebody to love.
But nobody comes back again
Nobody you approve of.

You are totally ruined
From your head to your shoes
You’ve got a crippling case of
The Spoiled Baby Blues.

You take them out to dinner
And they babble on and on.
You buy candy and flowers
But later they’re still gone.
It can’t be stuff about you
Because you are a dream.
It must be in who you choose
Not as sweet as they seem.

When you don’t get your way
That’s when you always choose
To sing your own arrangement of
The Spoiled Baby Blues.

Would you know how to act
If everything was fine?
Or would you work overtime
To find a cause to whine?
You don’t do a thing in life
To change your mournful song.
Nothing good to sing about
Something’s always wrong.

You are totally ruined
From your head to your shoes
You’ve got a crippling case of
The Spoiled Baby Blues.
When you don’t get your way
That’s when you always choose
To sing your own arrangement of
The Spoiled Baby Blues.

Every time I close my eyes
It hurts a little more.

Because I know I'm one night closer
To you being gone.

He writes boy on his leg
Etching the letters the world won't understand
Wishing the felt tip pen could
Break the gravestones on his chest
And fill the valley between his legs

He writes boy on his leg
It's a word kept secret in fear
He's a mustang learning his legs
And the world is a pack of vicious wolves
They don't know what to call him
Only he does

He writes boy on his leg
Takes a picture and sends it to the one he knows understands
The flash against his pale skin stark and bright
Like sleepy eyes against fresh snow

He writes boy on his skin
Because he can't write it anywhere else