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Proclaimed the paper-cutout placard on the table: Clothless gray plastic-surfaced round. In this immense faux-stone (concrete?) Faux-English country house We escape to the top of the stairs: The no admittance sign is no deterrent. The iridescence of your skirt is captivating But all I can remember is living in a castle like this one When I was a little blonde nothing And feeling the way I do now, As if there's been no transformation, no progress. Maybe there has, And this band must be pretty great To keep this many old white people dancing so enthusiastically For such a long time: An ancient one with a Christmas-themed vest Foxtrots with a once-lady in a polyester pants suit Thin hair dyed roofing-tar black, suede kitten heels clacking. The world's a **** strange place. Even if we feel like we aren't quite awake, We'll adjust our stockings and fill our plates With that mystery-shrouded gelatinous citrus dessert And our plastic cups with apple cider, light beer, 7-Up. Endure a few more minutes on this rented dancefloor with me Because they're playing love shack And who doesn't smile at the mere notion of the B-52s?
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Dec 5, 2010
Dec 5, 2010 at 3:10 PM UTC
Crum Creek
Proclaimed the paper-cutout placard on the table: Clothless gray plastic-surfaced round. In this immense faux-stone (concrete?) Faux-English country house We escape to the top of the stairs: The no admittance sign is no deterrent. The iridescence of your skirt is captivating But all I can remember is living in a castle like this one When I was a little blonde nothing And feeling the way I do now, As if there's been no transformation, no progress. Maybe there has, And this band must be pretty great To keep this many old white people dancing so enthusiastically For such a long time: An ancient one with a Christmas-themed vest Foxtrots with a once-lady in a polyester pants suit Thin hair dyed roofing-tar black, suede kitten heels clacking. The world's a **** strange place. Even if we feel like we aren't quite awake, We'll adjust our stockings and fill our plates With that mystery-shrouded gelatinous citrus dessert And our plastic cups with apple cider, light beer, 7-Up. Endure a few more minutes on this rented dancefloor with me Because they're playing love shack And who doesn't smile at the mere notion of the B-52s?
cailey-duluoz
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Dec 5, 2010
Dec 5, 2010 at 3:10 PM UTC
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