The Pastor’s Daughter
Hit The Road Jack
In the background
The ex-lover sprays bitch
On the kitchen floor
Mr. Gin is in his bedroom
Informing us of the Secret Agents
Demanding the money from the dead
Walkie talkie
The family with tears
On their forehead
Block the window and
Turning quickly toward me
Offer pills that will make you
Do backstrokes in the air.
I am picked up by a black car
On a street in the south of France
The driver is an opera singer,
Pops up a bottle of champagne
The highway becomes bumpy
A mask jumps up
Holds my face
-I am indeed the daughter of a pastor
With no intentions of drinking
From his sparkling green bottle
I skip up the stairs, --
The gaps between them with
Creatures that grab my ankles
I can’t see the picture of us
In front of the summer cabin
Where we planted a red willow
In the background
The ex-lover sprays bitch
On the kitchen floor
Mr. Gin is in his bedroom
Informing us of the Secret Agents
Demanding the money from the dead
Walkie talkie
The family with tears
On their forehead
Block the window and
Turning quickly toward me
Offer pills that will make you
Do backstrokes in the air.
I am picked up by a black car
On a street in the south of France
The driver is an opera singer,
Pops up a bottle of champagne
The highway becomes bumpy
A mask jumps up
Holds my face
-I am indeed the daughter of a pastor
With no intentions of drinking
From his sparkling green bottle
I skip up the stairs, --
The gaps between them with
Creatures that grab my ankles
I can’t see the picture of us
In front of the summer cabin
Where we planted a red willow