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letra de the columbia girl - dbuk

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i love the way you hold yourself
when you’re holding your banjo
i love the way you hold your banjo
cradled between your legs

resting in the crotch of the dress
that you did handmake
i love the fact that your dress used to hang
as the curtain for our kitchen window

i don’t love the way you took two of my shirts
after i asked you to rid the stains
you cut and sewed, you rest-tched
as i hemmed and i hawed

you used to go into our kitchen
and scrub your teeth in the sink
you claimed the kitchen is too bright
and now your breath stinks

i love the scratching that your dress makes
as it rubs against the back of your banjo
it sounds like one of them hip-hop songs, kool moe dee or humpty
if i could pull it off, i might say “girl, get jiggy with me”

i love the way that your br–sts bounce
across the top of your banjo
beating out a rhythm that couples up perfectly
with your foul-mouthed song
your complicated rhythm
would make keith moon tap along

i would love to rest my head
where your banjo’s head does lay
our kitchen’s window faces south
so your [?] keeps me in pain

you said “love, come out of the kitchen”
and sing this one with me
i goggled and mumbled a wet reply
as i spit into the sink

your dress blocks out the light
your skin’s turned as white as my teeth
i love the way you turn your head when you sing to me
consider it unconscious of how much our love does mean
i love the way your songs don’t stink
anywhere near your teeth

- dbuk

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