she was hungry so hungry
and she was trying to think clear
but she kept opening the fridge door
and looking at the mustard and the beer
and then finally she went out into the rain
carrying her bicycle chain
and her feet worked the pedals
while her appetite steered
and after that she just followed her nose
cuz fate is not just whose cooking smells good
but which way the wind blows

she laid down in her party dress and never got up
needless to say she missed the party
she just got sad
then she got stuck
she was wincing like something brittle
trying hard to bend
she was numb with the terror
of losing her best friend
but she never sees things changing
she only sees them ending
and some vicious whispering voice
keeps saying you have no choice

cuz when i look at you i squint
you are that beautiful
and my pussy is a tractor
and this is a tractor pull
i'm haunted by my illicit, explicit dreams
and i can't really wake up
so i just drift in between
thinking the glass is half empty
and thinking it's not quite full

the pouring rain is no place for a bicycle ride
try to hit the breaks
and you slide
and you slide
and you slide