black pajamas (very old)

black pajamas

As the artist judges my appearance, I notice his mind wandering. Is he pondering my difference from his cheap paper? It is his canvas.

And he'll give his opinion. Believe me, he has one. I sit and watch until hes done.

Final touches made on his masterpiece. Quickly, he scribbles a name. No one is ever the same. But I pay him anyway. Like black pajamas, they never fade.

Little kid bourettes and a few braids in my hair. We dress alike and that dude doesnt care. We feel pretty this way. Hey, little tommy with a dress, his life is a mess. Like little Jeanneshes kissing a girl. We all shoot our lives to hell. And as time plays hop scotch, you waste your life away. You turn us away. And change, oh anyday, anyway, what did you say? The other day I went with tommy to buy a new wig. Somehow, the first mysteriously disappeared. And that day had come. Jeannes crying. That day she had always feared.

Im going crazy. Im freaking out. Zombies in my head. I think Ill go to bed. Now I see my sheets were torn, my mirrors shattered. My curtains were crooked and my portrait was battered. I could still hear the clatter. My heart was racing. The colors of my walls were false. And I cant find my black pajamas...

1997 (whoa)