putting on coverup, lip gloss
and a flirty little smile.
Take a swig of bitter tasting ale,
thinking it'll cure me for a while.
Tight fitting top and low-rise jeans,
twist my belt to the side.
It's just a girl thing.
Run my hands through my hair,
smile at a cute stranger.
Maybe he'll come and occupy my mind.
Dancin' real close,
movin' real fast,
drinking that little brown jug dry.
Then you crash
and smack into the wall real hard.
It falls down around you into a millon pieces
shards off glass that
cut you so deep.
Mascara runs down your face,
smearing your cover up
and half-off lip gloss.
Smile is upside down,
bitter ale is churning inside you,
and there's nothing left to do but cry.