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Martha can't dance so she sits in the corner
Watching all the others and wishing she were dead
What she wouldn't give for a little bit of rhythm
Instead of all the crazy notions dancing in her head.
Oh Martha, Oh Martha
No one ever told you it would be as bad as this.
Oh Martha, Oh Martha
No one ever told you it would be as bad as this.
She's slumped down in her chair like a sack full of suspicion
Pulling at her party dress and scratching out of sight
Visualizing everyone in varied forms of torture
And she the high priestess at the sacrificial rite.
She drowns her disappointment in a punchbowl full of teardrops
Oblivious that some is still clinging to her chin
She fills up on the trifles that aren't meant to serve as dinner.
And contemplates the hellish situation that she's in.
Martha, this is not your scene
These are not the people you should be around
Someday, Martha, you'll find others like you
Until then, Martha, don't let them get you down.
There's nothing like a party to make you feel rejected
Inviting a comparison to everyone you know
Isn't it a pity to care about such nonsense.
Go sit next to Martha and make her feel at home.
Martha is mistaken thinking she's the only misfit
There's a little maladjustment lurking in us all
It's really only comfort in conformity that saves us.
Without it we would all be flowers clinging to a wall.
© Jackie Doyle 2005
Perfect, that's what you called me
When you first saw me standing there, unaware.
You saw something not readily
Apparent to anyone, least of all me.
I may seem together to some degree
But appearances can lie, you see.
Don't hitch your wagon to my star
'Cause I'm going nowhere fast
And nowhere's not that far from here.
Don't look to me to bring you up
Cause I'll only smack you down
And you might self-destruct, my dear.
Genius, that's how you described it
The thoughtless banter that tumbles from my brain, unrestrained
Infinite monkeys typing away
Will eventually make some sense someday
Coincidence ends up a Shakespeare play
I'm just a monkey with nothing to say.
The French have a word for it
Two dimensions that seem like three
Trompe l'oeil girl, I'll fool you every time
Trompe l'oeil girl, you cannot trust your own mind.
Heaven, that's how you explained it
Those fleeting moments we spent in the same room, I presume
Our mutual requirement for air
Is the only similarity that we share
That fidelity you'd so quickly swear
Is too big a burden for you to bear.
© Jackie Doyle 2005
Someone better pinch me hard,
Oh, this just can't be real.
You're standing here in front of me
Declaring all the love you feel.
Dismissing your past treachery
As problems with your chemistry
And swearing to be true after all you put me through.
My friends avoid me now; they're sick of listening anyhow.
I've burnt out everyone I ever knew.
Spent months in therapy to purge myself of your debris
And exorcise the demon that is you.
I've got no self-esteem. I sometimes feel like I could scream
Thinking of the trust I gave and the lousy way that you behave.
I'm not gonna walk on eggshells
I'm not gonna walk on eggshells
No, I'm not gonna walk on eggshells
Wondering where the hell you are when you're not here with me.
I must admire the invention you inspire.
You screwed up and escaped all injury.
The spin you put on this is quite the work of genius,
You turned around and put the blame on me.
Now you're the tortured soul and I'm the heartless, awful troll
Who drove you to such desperate acts but can't forgive and take you back.
© Jackie Doyle 2005
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