"Bank of Boston Beauty Queen" lyrics
I've dropped acid with guaranteed sixteen and under, none were very exciting
Sorta like a laugh track or whacking off, it gets you off, but it's just not the real thing
It's been decades since my pit days
But I haven't shaken it - I sit there like an idiot
Still wrapped up in the old punk protocol
And dreaming that the teenagers will think that I'm a radical
And I still wait for the bus to come where the high school got torn down
Still expecting to find true love among the skateboarders hanging out
The back of the bank in my hometown
All this talk and no action's got me stiff from the tit to the bone
So I'm living in la-la-land, but at least I'm not living at home
Same old catcall same old chemicals
Same old thrills stealing stockings from the shopping mall
It's easy enough to grow the fuck up happy with the rough cut
Nobody's really looking for a diamond in the rough but
I still wait for my mom to come and pick me up at Holly's house
Ten years after they cashed it in to make a multi-level parking lot for a seven-eleven and burger king and
I've got cryptographs, I've got all the phones tapped
It's just proof enough it was indisputable
Love's not good enough I want photographs
Something that will teach me my arithmetic at last...
Betty, get your kids out, I'm on the loose again
And getting more ridiculous the more I think I ought to get my mind out of the gutter
(It's getting dangerous, Amanda, you are old enough to be the focus)
My own private highway from the cradle to the grave
I save a bundle skipping middle age and Saturdays
And I still wait for the cops to come where the station since burned down
Still expecting they'll pick me up for all the sins I committed in the back of a banged-up pickup truck
I've got autographs, backstage passes and leather jacket back patches up the...
Ask me anything I want evidence
Single serving saccharine packets dripping black with lipstick kisses
I still wait for the bus to come where the high school got torn down
Still expecting to find true love among the skateboarders hanging out
The back of the bank in my home...
I'm no pederast, just out of interest
Thank you, but I'm capable of getting up and getting dressed
Love's not good enough I want photographs
Something that will teach me common
Time and time again
I think I'll die my hair again
Oh wow
I'm sixteen
No, I'm ten
I'm seventeen
And the bank of Boston beauty queen
Sorta like a laugh track or whacking off, it gets you off, but it's just not the real thing
It's been decades since my pit days
But I haven't shaken it - I sit there like an idiot
Still wrapped up in the old punk protocol
And dreaming that the teenagers will think that I'm a radical
And I still wait for the bus to come where the high school got torn down
Still expecting to find true love among the skateboarders hanging out
The back of the bank in my hometown
All this talk and no action's got me stiff from the tit to the bone
So I'm living in la-la-land, but at least I'm not living at home
Same old catcall same old chemicals
Same old thrills stealing stockings from the shopping mall
It's easy enough to grow the fuck up happy with the rough cut
Nobody's really looking for a diamond in the rough but
I still wait for my mom to come and pick me up at Holly's house
Ten years after they cashed it in to make a multi-level parking lot for a seven-eleven and burger king and
I've got cryptographs, I've got all the phones tapped
It's just proof enough it was indisputable
Love's not good enough I want photographs
Something that will teach me my arithmetic at last...
Betty, get your kids out, I'm on the loose again
And getting more ridiculous the more I think I ought to get my mind out of the gutter
(It's getting dangerous, Amanda, you are old enough to be the focus)
My own private highway from the cradle to the grave
I save a bundle skipping middle age and Saturdays
And I still wait for the cops to come where the station since burned down
Still expecting they'll pick me up for all the sins I committed in the back of a banged-up pickup truck
I've got autographs, backstage passes and leather jacket back patches up the...
Ask me anything I want evidence
Single serving saccharine packets dripping black with lipstick kisses
I still wait for the bus to come where the high school got torn down
Still expecting to find true love among the skateboarders hanging out
The back of the bank in my home...
I'm no pederast, just out of interest
Thank you, but I'm capable of getting up and getting dressed
Love's not good enough I want photographs
Something that will teach me common
Time and time again
I think I'll die my hair again
Oh wow
I'm sixteen
No, I'm ten
I'm seventeen
And the bank of Boston beauty queen
Writer(s): Amanda Palmer
