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Skinny Boy
by Amy Millan

Skinny boy, all bones no lies
Your so miserable in the mornings
Will you will wait up for me?
Its sordid and I can't find my feet
And you’ve got lips I could spend a day with

Skinny boy, some where some prostitution
Some devour some doubt some dance
They're coming with swords through the backdoor
And there you are on the fence
With those lips I could spend a day with

When its done ill drink champagne to the lonely
Lonely in me
Monday, Tuesday so lonely
Wednesday, Thursday only me
Friday, Saturday only me
Here comes Sunday


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