This soulstice

I wrote him a "John, Dear" letter
after he plowed through "it"
on that witless, winter morning
I wrote it in my sleep

Jus befo ya broke ya back pelvic thrustin' 'cross zat flow
Girl, ya done had one too many red, plastic cups

This soul-stice was a good one to try it

Many moons have appeared and reappeared
since i last let my heart lead me
That sound of stimulation's
most desired, by design
Thanks a heap, Dame Nature!
I went to sleep early, so i could wake up late

I see beyond your pupil, further than your retina, your cornea's growing in my field
Got to talkin to the moon
inarticulate, understood clarity
You and I left with moonshine
on our tongues and our eyes

This solstice was a good one to try it

You weed me out, i lead you in
Lookin full these days, filling up
at the filling station i petrol myself
lighting up, gasing up, chaperoning
dans ma chapeau, of which i own
Chapeau-owning

Je suis
Je suis
malade, désolé
On va au cafe?
let's grease up our inards with that stuff

This solstice was a good one to try it

-"Look ma! No hands!"
on my own, that look of independence
-"Ce n'est pas grand chose"

-"Look ma! No bra!"
on my own, that look of independence
-"Ce n'est pas grand chose"

Je suis
Je suis
la chanteuse
i chant, rattle, ramble, and hum

This soulstice was a good one to try it