miss lucy told me to be patient

i laugh ironically 'cause every dreamy scenario comes to life, i've sealed myself into what i've built. what use does it have, to know stars like the palm of my hand, if i'm not to draw whole constellations in your arm? cooking lessons won't have you over for tea time. pastries waiting on the fancy hand-painted plate, sweet and untouched. good manners, are they any good? at the end of the day i'll sleep underneath cold sheets. just bought the finest soap published on the french magazine, with no ostensible purpose. and my hands, arthritic shaking for i've been playing piano all day long, the melody unheard that you'll never delight. standing still in my favorite dress. like an old tree that falls in the forest, no one'll hear me scream.