“The Girl Who Owns The World”

Buried beneath a worn out duvet we lay,
Carving poems on black wooden plates.
My pinstriped dress and your leather vest sway
Clearly forgotten in the twilight rain
And I see you coiled up by the fireplace
Half asleep upon a Leibniz essay,
A whisper of smoke from my brass ashtray,
The distant tapping on the window panes

And we’re still growing up in our weird way,
No fears and no shame
And we’re bored and entertained
And we’re still lost and young,
Ignorant, intertwined and lame,
Away from

Home and come what may don’t lose my hand,
I’ve been stashing lives for you to spend
And planting cacti around our moat
And all I know is I will hold on to the hope
That one day we’ll be standing on this hill and know
That this world is ours
And you’ll be the rain upon the drought that I’ve become
And at the edge of it all,
You’ll be words of all the songs I never wrote,
You’ll be the girl who owns the world.

Hidden behind a cashmere kerchief you stare
At the awkward way I blame my age
For my hipster cut and my nonsense sayings
Covered behind my cheap and ugly shades
As I see you coiled up by the bonfire flames
Planning every word you might say,
Cinnamon hues from your ivory ashtray,
The suffocated roar of thunder waves

And we’re still growing up in the best way,
No tears in our faces,
We’re easily entertained
As we’re still growing up, growing old
Intertwined and gray
Away from

Home and come what may don’t lose my hand,
I’ve been stashing lives for you to spend
And planting cacti around our moat
And all I know is I will hold on to the hope
That one day we’ll be standing on this hill and know
That this world is ours
And you’ll be the rain upon the drought that I’ve become
And at the edge of it all,
You’ll be words of all the songs I never wrote,
You’ll be the girl who owns the world.

You’ll be the girl who owns the world.

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