by Sycamore Smith

So nice, lying with you
In the bright, golden morning light
Still, I can't help noticing
You're wasted and your coat is on...
Tell me where you went last night
On the one hand, there's what you say
And on the other hand, there's what you do
And this here finger bone
Flying high and all alone
Is for the difference between the two
Remember the letter you said was from your granny?
Well, I pulled it from the trash, my dear
Now, why would your granny say
To meet her in the alleyway
And not to bother wearing your brassiere?
The auto mechanic called you again
You know, that guy is kinda tying up the line
He said that your car will be ready at ten
And you can come and get it at nine