She is a preacher, a lover
Partly practical, practically dreamy
Partly truth, partly fiction
A walking contradiction
She walks as she hovers
Her feet are on earth
She is actually ethereal
A walking dream
I've never been to 52nd street
If you know me
I am what a cold shower is to a hot steamy bath
A wilting flower to a rose
At least I will never touch you
Because I may get hurt
Because I am cold as dust
The stores I go to raise the money
For a good ***** hotdog
Just so I can eat some ****
I am not that cunning
I could be down for dialogue
My mouth is sewn shut
As your ash turns to a ghost