Box

Sometimes she's rude sometimes she's too crude

Sometimes she understands sometimes her hands are dirty

So she stays there at home in her box

There's a part of her that shouts

And there's a part of her that only whispers

There's another part that's lost in space

There's a part that would spit if you kissed her

Most times i have to keep her in her box

It's not a sad thing

She gets to exercise her wings

It scares the sh*t out of me

So many different ways to be

So she stays there at home in her box

Most times i have to keep her in her box

She's safer when she's hiding in her box