I am a work in progress dressed in the fabric of a world unfolding.
I am 32 flavors and then some.
My country tis of thee, to take swings at each other on talk show TV.
No one’s gonna sympathize when we crash, they’ll say you hit what you head for, you get what you ask.
Feel free to listen, feel free to stare.
I cannot name this, I cannot explain this, and I really don’t want to so just call me shameless.
I have earned my disillusionment.
I would rather have these things weigh on my mind. At the end of this tunnel of guilt and shame, there must be a light of some kind.
I’m the color me happy girl, Miss live and let live. And when they’re out for blood, I always give.
Maybe we are both good people who’ve done some bad things.
I had a little bit of resistance to the idea of taking energy away from my work, and the baby comes along and, lo and behold, that’s exactly what happens.
Virtue is relative at best, there’s nothing worse than a sunset when your driving due West.
We negotiate with chaos for some sense of satisfaction.
Who says I like right angles? These are not my laws, these are not my rules.
At night when you’re asleep, self-hatred’s going to creep in. And you can blame it on the devil, the one who’s bed you sleep in.
Those who call the shots are never in the line of fire.
We’ve got ego’s like hairdos.
Now let’s get talking: reefer madness. Like some arrogant government can’t, By any stretch of the imagination, outlaw a plant.
When all you can think of is your own personal problems, you have nothing to give to your society. If you’re trying to figure out where your next meal is coming from, you can’t go march on Washington.
When I was like sixteen, I was a total chick I had big hair. I was seen as this attractive girl, and I would get all this attention. And then I just cut off my hair, and I quit playing that game.