MY BOSS IS ON DRUGS
HE SAYS MY HAIR IS “SO COOL”
THE STARS KNOW MY PAIN

I DYED MY HAIR RED
INDEX AND MIDDLE CLAIM IT
I SING FORMATION

IN THE MAKE – UP AISLE
YOU ASSUME MY PURSE IS EMPTY
SEARCHING FOR MY TONE

MAYBE I’M A GHOST
PLACE MY ORDER QUIETLY
CUT ME WITH SCISSORS

WE’RE SALT OF THE EARTH
MOVED LIKE A LAZY SUSAN
ALWAYS IN THE BACK

THE WORLD IS BURNING
WE DIE FROM THE OUTSIDE IN
MATCHES EVERYWHERE

FOLD ME ON PAPER
CUT ME FROM THIS MAGAZINE
TAKE YOUR NOTES ON ME

EDUCATE YOURSELF
WRITE YOUR NOTES ON MY BODY
REPEAT HISTORY

EDUCATE YOURSELF
WRITE YOUR NOTES ON MY BODY
GRADE ME, I’M A DRAFT

EDUCATE YOURSELF
WRITE YOUR NOTES ON MY BODY
THEN THROW ME AWAY