My cheeks are painted yellow.
As the light begins to fade.
Coating my sweet cheeks in homemade lemonade.
My face is somewhat sickly sweet.
My toes seem bigger than my feet.
I'm tripping skywards in a dream.
Of candied slugs and magazines.
A diet that's precision based, where the scales only tell us lies.
Where terrorists are easy beat, as if they're fruity flies.
When journeys on trains are always pleasant.
How the beer is stronger the longer it ferments.
Where all the dolly birds make-up with cheapest brand cement.
For beauty is only skin deep and for missing youth I wholly weep.
Sitting on this planet while drifting off to sleep.
Inside my head a sorrow, that will for tomorrow keep.
(C) LIVVI