| She looked just like a train wreck
|
| That could’ve been avoided
|
| In a third-world country
|
| By a long stretch of farmland
|
| Where the waters had run high
|
| And washed the topsoil down the river
|
| So that next year there would be no crops
|
| She was as desperate as a salesman
|
| At a company that’s folding
|
| But they haven’t told the staff yet
|
| That they’re bankrupt and backordered
|
| And they’re funneling the pensions
|
| To the CEO’s back pocket
|
| So in one week they’ll have nothing
|
| I miss you, girl
|
| I hope you’re fine
|
| Good luck, love
|
| Or goodbye
|
| She’s the girl from central casting
|
| Always played the sweet, young orphan
|
| Or the hooker with the heart of gold
|
| But she got her SAG card pulled
|
| And turns tricks now on Cahuenga
|
| She tells herself it’s research
|
| For her next and greatest role
|
| She calls you up
|
| Just to hear you say she’s fine
|
| Then she’s gone away
|
| And you know there’s only one more time
|
| You’ll hear about her again
|
| Well, it’s life informing art
|
| Informing life again
|
| Like every stupid kid
|
| That thinks that they’re the first in pain
|
| The first to rip themselves apart
|
| The first to try and live without a heart
|
| I want to see your face
|
| Even hear your lies
|
| Good luck, girl
|
| Or goodbye
|
| Goodbye |