(A Smiths-inspired song)
Rosalie, I cannot believe
your mind is such a sieve
Why are you so afraid
to voice your opinion?
Are you so afraid
no one will listen?
Do you feel unlike them
’cause you had no christen-
ing?
(It goes way beyond that)
Don’t you know it’s all a farce?
You can’t walk in someone else’s
pointy shoes
(Why would you want to?)
’cause your feet will blister & fester
go out and buy yourself a pair of penny loafers.
Rosalie, I cannot comprehend
why you let them make you bend
hunchback like a girl with scoliosis
There’s nothing wrong with your spine
It’s all up there in your mind
Do you really want to be in their class
(or lack of class)
It’s just a bleeding hemorrhage in the arse.
You envy their clothes that reek of lavender
to cover
the smell of blood and labor of the
working class
(your blood and labor)
You cringe & envy, cringe & envy,
their sickly sweet smelling
lavender blood.
Rosalie, I cannot believe
your mind is such a sieve
Why are you so afraid
to voice your opinion?
Are you so afraid
no one will listen
no one will listen?
I’ll listen.
© Sabrina Santa Clara, 1989