Little Miss Susy ((Out like a Light))

Seventeen years of washing a window
with the grey sunshine tears from her eyes
and all she had to do was blow out like a candle,
fireworks popping in her head.

Those cockleshells from the nursery rhyme,
they're pretty as poppy seeds on her wrists,
especially when they drip down the Christmas tree
and trickle back through Valentine's.

Our summer stars are daunting,
those pretty pin pricks of ocean in the sky.
Sometimes, she gets tired, watching the angels sing.
She can't sing to save her life.

We all write Xs and Os on our lips,
screaming out "kiss me" like candy hearts.
Aren't our hearts sweet?
That must be why the world chews 'em up and spits us out.

There used to be olive branches and ivy in her hair,
back when she was small and she'd run.
We used to run together,
back before she was my imaginary friend.

Nobody really liked her sidewalk chalks,
so she swam like the rain over them.
She swung out like a light and kissed 'em on the way down.
She always glowed like a candle.