Skinny little brats
   Walking down Avenue A
   Dangling their cigarettes
   Their Independence Day
   Tears like ifligrees
   Wear them on their sleeves
   Nobody's main squeeze
   It's thirty-five degrees
  
   Poetry of ordinary life is what I live for
   They just wanna bei heard... said
  
   My words are like confetti
   And you never pick them up
   They fall to the ground
   I need someone to lift me up
  
   So diaphanous so ephemeral
   And all those bad words
   They never learned in school
   Groovy like my mama was
   In her black turtleneck
   She was so high-strung
   She was so low tech
  
   Poetry and tattooed dreams
   And fourteen carat nose rings
   The children of elite
   Are trying to be street saying
  
   My words are like confetti
   And you never pick them up
   They fall to the ground
   I need someone to lift me up
   Repeat chorus