Candy Girl

This 6 liter hard candy girl tickles my eyes and curls my toes. Makes me dance to music I can’t feel. Sends me where I’ve never been before, on a tour of Big Time, Small Town, Milky Way Heaven, wearing clumsy sneakers that reek of old cliches and humming sad tunes from all my yesterdays. Don’t sit and weight for your bowels to move lost in the groove caused by your life’s last fall. Get up and do it again. Well, perhaps it’s different now, I can’t tell: We’ve all been to Heaven of one kind or another. We’ve all seen our own brand of Hell and I can tell that walking down the road together might be good. I might understand you better, might be understood. But Gee, what kind of picture does love really paint with brushes of passion and canvas that aint really flat. Well, just put on your traveling hat come along for the ride. Cause Man Cause Baby Cause Geeesh I ain’t got nuthin to hide. Maybe you got your own kinda dreams to share about some hunk of six digit brand of Macho Care. Prize pupils starin’ back at you with guns still smokin’ and pot shots making swiss cheese outa your ROMANCE. Maybe you learned how to dance the hard way banana peels taped to the sides of your skates and fish eyes staring out of all of your restaurant plates. And maybe your hair has lost its sheen or lost you completely and gone where its never been without you. Well what else is new? We all gotta tune of one kind or another and we all learned to dance from a sister or brother and whether we walk with a bounce or a cane we all been caught sometime out in the rain and it aint nuthin new it’s only me. and it’s only you.