I expected the spaces left to shrink I thought my body'd forget your square shape I hoped my holed heart wouldn't be left agape Boldly naive, a baby dressed in pink I hate you for leaving me stuck to think You were the only one here not an ape I don't want to patch my canyon with tape But no choice I have, you left in a blink Now, it's my duty to bat my lashes First to mop the crystal geyser of tears Secondly, coquettishly-over to him Who he is matters not, only passion. Hotel? Motel? I'm sick of these affairs. Alone, I must remain-with him in Grimm.
written in the perspective of Blanche Dubois, "A Streetcar Named Desire"