Dust Bowl Ethel Cain
Pretty boy Natural blood-stained blond With the holes in his sneakers And his eyes all over me Drive-in slasher flick again Feeling me up as a porn star dies He’s watching me instead 8th grade death pact strike me dead
All of alabama laid out in front of your eyes But all you could see was me
You walked in, you were singing You tried to wade in cause you wanted Just to tell me who you were You were kind, dying to tell me You’ll wait if i have to make sure
Grew up hard, fell off harder Cooking our brains smoking that shit your daddy smoked in vietnam You’d be a writer If he didn’t leave all his hell for you Saying if you could, you’d leave it all
I knew it was love When i rode home crying Thinking of you fucking other girls And when you Said that you’re in love I never wondered if you’re sure
Pretty boy Consumed by death With the holes in his sneakers And his eyes all over me
