Her lipstick's in the ashtray
Could be the back of a story
She wears the heels of her shoes down
Scanning the skyline
Her diary's tied in a ribbon
Times giving nothing away
Ignites the hearts of the cool kids
Walking the ashes
They say kill your speed not a kid but
When all the kids get cars they're never home
You never call me
With good advice
You talk too loud with
Words that look like they sound
Can i hang from the mirror?
With all the books that ride in the back seat
Can i steal from your notebook?
With all the names you've discarded
