If I ever get my feet back on the ground,
I'm going to buy me a bottle and head on in to town.
I'm going to find me a girl that treats me kind,
one that pays some attention to what's on my mind.

Dollars to donuts, we'll feel real good,
anything and everything will go down just as it should.
No more thistles and thorns, no more raging thunderstorms.
No more boot heels on the ground, no more horrendous hissing sound.

We'll bring to the table just what we've got,
we'll spend when we are able and stay home when we're not.
We'll kick up our heels to those Celtic reels,
forgetting how it feels to be scrounging our meals.

Those will be the days that we'll choose to recall,
I know this is a phase and better times will put an end to it all.
Dollars to donuts, these hard times will pass,
dollars to donuts, these hard times won't last.

I can't eat.
You think that I'm stupid,
But it's no small feat
Because though I can feel my stomach shrinking inside me,
I am stuck on repeat,
Starving, ignoring, forgetting
Yanking with this sharp leash
Saying don't eat
Don't eat
Don't eat.
Because maybe then I'll have some control.
Or the ugly will go away.
Maybe the black, consuming pain
In my heart,
Will finally turn to gray.

You were here on holiday, only stopping in on the big move to England
And I was just a lost girl, a little wandering wonder,
And so I was here for 90 days, and I knew you for two

We met in the afternoon in a pub
It was that *****, early 20's, new and a little exciting kind of thing

And you had an instant fan in me
You were smart, you were funny, well-dressed and fairly kind
And you talked about all the stupid things I liked

And I watched your strengths and I wondered if you too saw your weaknesses,
And I loved that you were afraid to cry at the new Star Wars premiere

And so we got a little tipsy, paid the tab and left to find ourselves more sweet, sweet beer at a more reasonable price for two such kids

And so we got drunk on a park bench on €1 beers

And we listened to your scattered songs
And we kissed in those old Spanish streets as if we'd been in young love for centuries
When it had really only been about 3 hours since we'd seen each other first

But it was good, and it was nice, and we both needed it, I think

So the next day we met again
You were just as funny, just as kind, and this time, even more well-dressed, in your smart leather shoes

And we did it all over again on day two
The pub, the beers, the bench, the tacky kisses and the bits of banter

And the next day, you left

But we still keep in touch
And I'd like to see you again
I'm hoping for a day three
I'm a big fan of yours