Femme Fatale

The phone's ringin', gettin' louder and louder, As it gets closer to her ear. She rolls over, tryna clear the haze, And sees a name she ain't too clear. "Femme Fatale," it says, and she's confused, Wondering who this person could be. A text comes through from the same unknown, Saying "agoraphobiac" in a message with a pic of her, but she can't see. She's in a concert, with faces she don't know, And wonders how she got there, in such a public show. She never leaves the house, the blinds always shut, But there she is, in places she's not. Her body starts to rise, blood pressure high, She screams in frustration, "Oh my! Another crisis hits, and she's floating, To the cabinet, arms and breath a-holdin'. Last week, a bull was sleepin' in her tub, The week before, she was beamed up in a UFO. Her wrist is scarred, she's slaughtered before, But the phone's ringin' still, more and more. She rolls the other way, tryna clear her mind, And sees a name that's all too familiar this time. "Agoraphobiac," it reads, and she sighs, Another crisis comin', she can't deny.