Summer of Our Discontent

"oh, i really hate this place," she said

putting on her makeup by the unmade bed

mascara for the lonely want

call our waitress "honey" then they tip with ones

the summer of our discontent

every dollar earned was already spent

bitter sweat and circumstance

layaway dreams, choked on first breath

a little bit of suffering's

just what you need to sweeten things

remind you of whats good and pure

a little suffering might cure ya