friday night rolls around and movie lights scream
the cliches of that visual, shallow-princess drama.
no, it does not matter the size of your heart,
but the size of your skirt – that is, three sizes too small.
(yes, can I have that in a child’s size, please?)

from party to party, night to night, it’s always the same, always
yet another one night stand. Oh yes, you’re the one, the perfect person,
the best i could ever hope for. i love you. yes, you and the person before you
and the other three from last week.

i love you all. all you seven different people from seven different days. you’re
the one.

they’re all alike – each and every sheep: model student by day -
druggie&drunk by night. red cups as plastic as their smiles, they flash
sultry poses for cameras that are bound to end up in all the wrong
places.

it doesn’t matter – because
Hey, it’s another night, let’s have some fun! you’re only young once!
tomorrow’s another day, tomorrow it will change, tomorrow i will fix it.
Tomorrow! tomorrow. i love ya, tomorrow!

but annie ain’t singing anymore and her tone
doesn’t ring true to those who won’t wake up.
wake up.
Wake.
Up.

the world won’t wait.

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