Clara Bow

I didn't use you, but I wish I had
I never liked you, but I wish I did
But I wish I did

Whether it was soaking in your poppy tea
Or your southern hospitality
Your voice has a singsong quality
And bones were made to be broken
Bones were made to be broken

Yes, all right, I can
With sunburnt lips I can bitch
Yes, all right, I can
With sunburnt lips I can bitch
About another stupid summer (x4)

Paste eaters like this sad season
Strong women gripe and bite your heavy tongues
And bite your heavy tongues