She was an artist; I was her canvas.
She was from Kentucky; whereas me, I’m from Kansas.
She was the goddess and the priestess
of her own made-up religion.
She’d mutter prayers to her own self
and see herself in a vision.
She glowed from the inside just like a jack-o-lantern.
She’d put her arms around me just like the rings around Saturn.
She was the queen of the vampires,
she was the princess of the posies.
She looked into my future,
said it didn’t look none too rosy.
She had a threesome with a waitress and a barber.
I look like Liam Neeson; he looks like a lot like my father.
The days just danced around us;
you know how some days can be dancers.
If you can’t give your love
it can turn into cancer.