I’m gonna hang my worries by a rope,
Ride the moon with these paper-thin
  legs;
Mama be so mad, I’m a messy pope,
Down into the rabbit hole, it begs

Throw my clean pants over the streets—
Let’s burn the city and its stubborn
  expectations;
Lay a spectrum of light by our feet
And bathe our spirits into golden fusion.

Put my reddest lipstick on;
Don’t pinch my arm, don’t wake me up!
Spread my butterfly wings and carry on—
This is something I will never get
  enough.