Clara Bow

I didn't use you but I wish I had
I never liked you but I wish I did

Whether it was soaking in your poppy tea
Or your southern hospitality
Your voice has a singsong quality
And bones were made to be broken

Yes, all right, I can
With sunburned lips I can bitch
About another stupid summer

Paste eaters like this sad season
Strong women gripe and bite your heavy tongues