Her beauty was what they say became jaded by the drug
Her charm was traded in for headlights in December
And her secret was painted Elmo-red
This was the December breakdown of Mary Jane:
a walking diary
She was the world's baby, and the world was her secretary
Her introduction was formal
and came at a time when there were no bones to pick
But pretty soon the parking lots bacame filled and gold could change no minds
But like the trees, she must keep breathing
But my! The sun is so bright and yellow makes for no empathy nor intimacy
There is no beach for baby this year...
and time will not tattoo you with patience
That is what heart is for
Life is a lion for some
The scene turns black..
for this porcelain soldier.