Girl with the celery shoes
I do a lot alone
Who held herself back
Who was there to pick up that slack
A crime to pantomime
Because none of this belongs to me
Rita, I owed her money
The beach, I wanted to swim
Theresa seduced her patrons
So naturally
The painter waves her hand and
I walk down the path
Give up freedom for a pat on the back
And to talk to someone not crazy