Hey, little girl,
don't you love the smell of rain on asphalt?

Hey, little girl,
want to try
some big-kid lipstick?

Hey, little girl,
look how all those big girls dress;
aren't they prettier than you?

Hey, little girl,
look how all those smooth boys dance.
They're one-two stepping to that
guitarmusic and they're so cool; they don't have a care.

Hey, little girl,
see the ebon gowns
those contradictions wear?
Those dresses have an eye on you.

Welcome to
reality,
little girl -
you may have grown a little bigger, but
you're still just an insect in
the jungle.

Hey, little girl,
you're not so little now;
your body's pretty mix of fluids
made the news:

You made one crazy, patriotic, painted statement
on those blue walls.

"Momma, she wur crazy, wurn't she?"

And the (acid) rain

falling

on the sidewalks
and the walls
scrubs away the purpose of your life -

We're glad you enjoyed
your fifteen minutes of fame.