Prima Donna
|
dodged a call from
|
the Investor
|
Were you struck dumb?
|
Were you, Prima Donna?
|
|
Now struck dumb
|
the next call she-
|
uh, picked up
|
Aha, you’re not so lucky?
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Are you, Prima Donna?
|
|
The Investor came through
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loud and clear
|
She was dumb, not deaf
|
Foul speech hit her ear
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The poor, Prima Donna
|
|
She’s met this man before
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and seen how he eats
|
He made no sense
|
His voice throbbed endlessly
|
to our Prima Donna
|
|
She phonetically
|
built a sentence:
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“Will this affect my record?”
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“It might.” the Investor menaced
|
The Investor menaced
|
|
Tell me, what good
|
could possibly come?
|
He gives her the stage
|
she deserves to perform on
|
|
And isn’t it this stinking world
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that likes to see beauty suffer?
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Well, isn’t it??
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Either way, too bad for her
|
|
And she went out that night
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and blew the lid off the joint
|
Like an investment
|
that never disappoints
|
The Prima Donna
|
|
-----------------
|
Prima Donna
|
| Cass McCombs |
