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Written by Lillian Frances

Super Bowl Party

Netflix + Chill

For a Good Time, Call

Do you want me live?

Bore me ‘till I die

I don’t get the zeitgeist

Coachella’s just a pricey place

To photograph your sick life

Hide behind my filter
Quick! Take a pic!
Then I’ll make it look sick-er

Damn, he’s a hit though!

Thousands on the ‘gram

Now he’s up to a kilo

Armed with a smart phone  and a rockin’ torso

Sexy on the screen
But he’s boring as cardboard


I crown this guy the worst
I could count the questions
He asks me on my fingers
Great explanation!
Wow! What’d I do to deserve this narration?

Countin’ down the minutes until this shitty date ends Pullin’ out my phone when he leaves me for the restroom Sendin’ my location

Dropped a pin and now
She’s headin’ over this direction



Waitin’ for my girl to come and swoop in

Save me quick before I resort to castration
Boy I got my own sins

So fuck your fornication
50 shades of masturbation
Your pleasure is so far from my obligation
This conversation’s so far from interesting
This beer that I hold holds no more expectation
I got other boys in town that I can call for lubrication


Getting what I paid for

I’m getting what I paid for

Getting what I paid for

Getting what I paid for (x2)

I’m foaming at the mouth to play you a song
Homesick for my fretboard where I once belonged

Gin to keep my heart warm, to intoxicate
Searching for semantics while my tonic’s away

Oo I lost myself
Phone keys wallet
Is there anything else?

I’m falling out my pockets, strewn on the ground Somewhere there’s a world for my lost and not found

You ask me to remind you, I already forgot
Shuffled are the details, mismatched are all the socks


How much does free time cost?


Dust on my piano, graveyard of guitars

Acoustic amputation, make sense of the scars

An audience before me, the words were all gone

Silent is the singer, forgotten are the songs



Phone Keys Wallet

Call me often, had to make time

Cash me in boy, I’m such a dime

Under cover, like it’s a crime

Under covers, had to make time

I call the drummer, cuz he’s so fine
I kiss the drummer, in my spare time

Syncopation, rappin’ my thigh
Roll a joint so, we can stay high

Well I’m just a piece of paper

No better than a Dixie Cup

Scorin’ the ground for a pencil

Tryna fill my pages up
For better and for worse

Here’s a sure way, to feel alive
Let curiosity kill ya eight times

Well I don’t trust no sky with no moon

Cuz my stars all fall out of tune

Well I’m just a piece of paper (yep!)

No better than a Dixie Cup
Scorin’ the ground for attention

Tryna fill my ego up

For better and for worse

There’s no resting, for a sea shore

Cuz the waves gon’ always want more

And I’m a tide so I’m gonna swoon

Waver in waves, that’s what tides do

Mmmmm Mmmmm Mmmmm Mmmmm

Better, Worse

Am I salty on your lips?

Well I dream you in the morning

Ah, cuz I breathe you in all night

And I write you in the sunset
I light you by my side

Lemme go with you
Should we Netflix or Chill first?

Well I thought you’d float away now
But you’re bobbing at the shore
Ah, and you play my favorite music when I come around And leave me wanting more

When I come around
When I come around
When I come around

Well you twirl my rings like Saturn
Now I’m dancing with the sun
Ah, and it might take two to tango but everyone knows

To dance it just takes one

Bailamos con en humo

Subiendo con la luna

Siguiendo sus huellas

Fumando la biblia
Qué Dios nos bendiga!

Mi nombre en cursiva

Escapa por tus labios

Pasea el oscuro
Y baila con el humo

Y bailamos con el humo

You got my heart wide open

Lemme know if you need it

You got my eyes wide open

And I like what I’m seeing

Come around more often
This is what I’ve been needing

You got my lips wide open

Lemme know if you’re breathing

Ey, tronco! El chisqueiro

Pido desde el cielo

Mientras mi cuerpo

Alcanza el infinito

Ay guapo pero guapo

Ya sé lo que quiero

Anhelo otro beso
Que queme mis huesos

I don’t have to chase reality
It always catches up to me
And I’ve wasted enough energy

On those who give no fucks

Give no fucks
Give no fucks bout me


La luna llena, bailamos con el humo (x4)

Rising with the moon

Following her footsteps

Smoking the bible
May god bless us

My name in cursive

Escapes from your lips

Passes in the dark
And dances with the smoke

And we dance with the smoke


Ey dude, the lighter!

I ask from the sky

As my body
Becomes infinite
Hey handsome (but like... handsome)

I already know what I want
I crave another kiss
That burns in my bones



The full moon, we dance with the smoke (x4)


Salt + Thirst

I'm salty cuz you fucked up my circadian rhythm 
Should have let someone else buy you that damn Heineken 
Salty cuz I shaved my legs for you and you didn't even feel 'em 
That's a lot of surface area you ain't coverin' 

Damn, she's so salty 
Damn, she's so thirsty 
She celebrates 420 
Like it's her fucking birthday 

Damn she's so, damn she's so, damn she's so... 

I'm thirsty cuz I'm walking through a whole foods and these boyz organic 
Leaves the car running when he gets me, like fuck the planet 
Thirsty cuz I empathize with California 
Don't tell me she's out of drought until she's drunk as Tijuana 

Pero no puedo descansar 
Con tantas cosas que quiero lograr 
Me dicen eh, guapa! hay que relajar! 
Pero nunca pude aguantar 

Damn, boy! Is this how it's gonna be? 
I coulda sworn to god and hoped to die that you were into me 
My self esteem is like the Life of Pablo, it's a work in progress 
I laugh, cuz I bet he's lookin' back at my ass like damn that shit is flawless 


Hey boy I see you slide into my DMs
Late in the night treating me like ampm
Know what? Come to think of it I’ve had a bit more fun ever since I went and dyed my hair blonde

A guy at the party asked me girl, is it natural?
Like your mom’s tits! I replied... that ain’t factual
It took more dough than a bakery would know what to do with so I’m broke, but I got the looks to prove it

And fuck the patriots
And fuck the patriarchy
Yeah I could give a shit about you and your Tom Brady
I had a blast here at your Super Bowl Party 
I’m sorry I’m not as much fun as I used to be

I don’t wonder why they talk
I just wonder what they say (x2)

I’ve encountered this phenomena every which direction
where boys talk at me and don’t ask any questions
and I’m wondering how to handle it these boys are so oblivious and I am busy I ain’t got no time for it

Ya know I don’t give a shit about your boring-ass story but your face is hella pretty and I’m really horny
I can only nod my head so much before my neck cries out in pain,
“leave this loser, get you a man with…”

SOCIAL SKILLS! We don’t all have ‘em!
I need a boy to sweep me off my feet like Aladin
Make me feel like i’m flying in the clouds like Jasmin
Like hey boy I can show you my world, sit down and listen

Cuz I’ve got so much shit to say, but I sit down to write it out and *poof* it floats away
Like my dreams are too ephemeral to live inside a pencil
They get tossed around the wind so I got good at listening

And fuck the patriots
And fuck the patriarchy
I root for Philadelphia because I like cream cheese
I had a blast here at your Super Bowl Party
I'm sorry I'm not as much fun as I used to be

As I used to be, as I used to be, was I ever?
I don't wonder why they talk, I just wonder what they say... (x2)


How picky do I need to be? 
I ask myself as he talks incessantly
Yeah he’s cute and he went to an Ivy League 
And likes dogs and his mom and photography

But I’m concerned about his use of apostrophes
And if he can use their and there correctly
and oh no! did he just use the word pussy to mean weak?
If I kicked you in the balls right now boy you’d scream

There’s no debate which could take a pounding
And if you weren’t aware we’re in 2018
More red flags then you’d find in Pyeongchang
If this were the olympics you’d be Russia in the games

Half mast baby cuz you’re dead to me
I’m done fucking boys in their early 20’s
Damn! I ain’t got no time for your immaturity!
I am confident as fuck so fuck your insecurities and…

And fuck the patriots
And fuck the patriarchy
Let's be honest I'm just here to smoke all of your weed
I had a blast here at your Super Bowl Party
I'm sorry I'm not as much fun as I used to be

I rattle my tongue at you, but you don't flinch. 

I cannot roll my Rs, like I'm supposed to 
I never felt so far, miss being local 
I cannot roll my tongue, like I'm supposed to 
My words are stuck like gum, beneath the table 

I don't wanna leave my room, but I'm supposed to 
I smoke all afternoon, it's something to do 
I wish my jokes would land, they're all just laughing at me 
I must speak with my hands, cuz they don't understand me 

I don't wanna clean my room, and I'm not gonna 
I drown in my perfume, and Spanish marijuana 
I cannot roll my tongue, like I'm supposed to 
I cannot roll my tongue, like I'm supposed to 

I rattle my tongue at you but you don't flinch.


High interpretations

Feeling your vibrations

One conversation

One more damn temptation

We could be classic

You could be classic

This could be classic

We could be classic

You must be classic. 

Next comes hesitation

Throwin' me off like syncopation

Hear my orchestration

Don't need no translation

Gravestone Feel

Babe you know I got that Gravestone Feel 
I’ma run run run till I break my heels 
Whatcha doin? You should join me 
Got a long ride ahead and I could use some company 

I got six strings, ten fingers, ten toes 
And I’ma run these soles as far as they can go, cause 
I’m a string, an instrument, a chime
And who am I to think that the time that ticks is mine?


Hey, running to my gravestone quick 
Running to the angels, hey 
Running till my ankles click 
Running from my anger, hey 

Running to my gravestone quick 
Running straight to danger, hey 
Running form the same ol’ shit 
Run run run run run 

So, how you like me now that I’m free?

You know you could come along, run run your feet 
So, follow me or in place you will be
The cards are in your hands you can change your destiny

Cause ashes, ashes, we all fall down 
Truth is all my heroes are living underground 
But, what’s the point of me running so fast 
Got the dirt between my toes and I want it to last

Bathtub Madonna

I will never be your bathtub madonna 
Resting in between the flora and fauna 
Pulling out my knife to carve me a new name

From this moment on I swear I’m not the same


Stay still, visions from my window sill
Inside the body experiences got me 
Feeling like a brand new human and

I want to run away with the moon

I’ll be back by next June


Let’s take stutter steps, I’ll readily accept your offer, 
Cause it isn’t often that I see you around 
These parts, welcome to town
We’re our own surround sound

Show me how you get down 

What’s a prima donna? 
Is that a good thing?
Roll the windows down and give me a new name

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