well tomorrow is my birthday
i'm sixteen and all i want is
the cure...
antibiotics and not to be a whale
flipping about and wishing for water..

aromatherapy is burning my eyes
and my breasts threaten mutiny
but there's this one girl...
i don't want her though,
i want exactly what i don't have;
the angel, my tormentor,
the one that will continue to touch
poke
push myself away from
through some concept that caused my
low "B" in physics.

i want psycho pete, he's our man
looking at saddam's box
i suddenly saw
that my life revolves around
Let down and hanging around...
that can't happen anymore.
this can't happen anymore...
now that i'm going to be 16,
it's going to change.

everything will be different when i can drive from sea to sea or chicago.

all i really want is things that work
all i get is things that break