She's gonna be a bitch, just like her mother
She's breeding her right. Little perfect outfits, little perfect nails and hair and fake smile. Tears for nothing and expensive dolls.
She's gonna grow up to be a bitch, just like her mum. A beautiful and fake woman, wearing expensive and tight clothes, tones of make-ul, face boobs and natural lips (it's not botox, it's just too much lipstick).
She's gonna be a hunter, like her mum. Hunting rich, older men with nice cars, a huge house, a fat bank account and maybe a small dick.
She's gonna be happy like her mother, because she's gonna get all she need, all she wants. She's gonna pin in her agenda a few things adding up to a fabulous wedding, fake friends, lies, lack of love (given, received... well, there is a chance)
She's gonna live a perfect little life not thinking about anything else, not wanting anything else. She's not gonna have a big purpose, great ideas and she ain't gona make good deeds. Just like her mum. She's gonna realize, someday, that life is something that ends much to fast and it's no need to be anything but shallow. Yep, just like her mum.
And one day, while going shopping, she'll cross her way with mine making me feel sorrow for her and, in the same time, making me wonder if her life ain't better than mine. Her ideas and dreams will be real. Shallow, but real. My world will only exist in my mind.
Am vazut o fetita ieri, de vreo doi anisori, imbracata intr-o rochita sic, desi afara era frig, cu parul aranjat la coafor. Maica-sa, o blonda spectaculoasa, cu niste pantaloni stramti, cizme pana la genunchi, machiata vizibil si putin deranjat. Taica-su, un tip cu vreo 15 ani mai in varsta decat maica-sa, evident, loaded.Trist si enervant. Pareau asa fericite si fara nici un fel de grija in micuta lor lume desprinsa dintr-o emisiune plictisitoare de la tv. Dar, pana la urma, viata lor traita in nepasare parea mult mai roz, la propriu si la figurat, decat a mea. Prea multe ganduri si idei. Nici in locul lor, tot n-as avea o viata roz - la propriu si la figurat- Maybe I should just relax and enjoy the ride. Poate din cauza asta ma regaseam azi, in textul de pe o fotografie de pe postsecret.
She's gonna grow up to be a bitch, just like her mum. A beautiful and fake woman, wearing expensive and tight clothes, tones of make-ul, face boobs and natural lips (it's not botox, it's just too much lipstick).
She's gonna be a hunter, like her mum. Hunting rich, older men with nice cars, a huge house, a fat bank account and maybe a small dick.
She's gonna be happy like her mother, because she's gonna get all she need, all she wants. She's gonna pin in her agenda a few things adding up to a fabulous wedding, fake friends, lies, lack of love (given, received... well, there is a chance)
She's gonna live a perfect little life not thinking about anything else, not wanting anything else. She's not gonna have a big purpose, great ideas and she ain't gona make good deeds. Just like her mum. She's gonna realize, someday, that life is something that ends much to fast and it's no need to be anything but shallow. Yep, just like her mum.
And one day, while going shopping, she'll cross her way with mine making me feel sorrow for her and, in the same time, making me wonder if her life ain't better than mine. Her ideas and dreams will be real. Shallow, but real. My world will only exist in my mind.
Am vazut o fetita ieri, de vreo doi anisori, imbracata intr-o rochita sic, desi afara era frig, cu parul aranjat la coafor. Maica-sa, o blonda spectaculoasa, cu niste pantaloni stramti, cizme pana la genunchi, machiata vizibil si putin deranjat. Taica-su, un tip cu vreo 15 ani mai in varsta decat maica-sa, evident, loaded.Trist si enervant. Pareau asa fericite si fara nici un fel de grija in micuta lor lume desprinsa dintr-o emisiune plictisitoare de la tv. Dar, pana la urma, viata lor traita in nepasare parea mult mai roz, la propriu si la figurat, decat a mea. Prea multe ganduri si idei. Nici in locul lor, tot n-as avea o viata roz - la propriu si la figurat- Maybe I should just relax and enjoy the ride. Poate din cauza asta ma regaseam azi, in textul de pe o fotografie de pe postsecret.
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