Locked in a box of faded wallpaper dreams,
An artificial blonde sips coffee and artificial sugar
Draped in old brownwhite comicbook stripes
With rousing visions of Kodak(C) scenery symphonies
And no brunette roots against bleachblonde beauty.
She sighs an empty sigh trapped by a half-empty mug
Pastel paper packets sing through ripped paper mouths
As if all the aspartame in the world could free her.
If only happiness came in a hair dye bottle.