ditch Jack
me  Mary and Gretel are heading south to
Greyhound gargling spitfires
broomsticks lipsticks dipsticks
bar stools pigeon stool  those tools
don't see us coming
we're grabbing Angelina and meeting Eve
and Cher and Joan there bare foot breathing
then its up up up kaleidoscopes
misty dew draped do disappearing acrobatics
in the mist
just like i promised but better
my dear
because we are girls

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