X-RATED: I'm doing this to provoke you, my pretty.

Somebody needs to $%@& me. 

I'm like a nun, or a monk, or a devout, single, Evangelist teenager.

I just took a hot pill and I'm about to take a hot bath with a hot curling iron.  

If you don't like it, close your eyes. 

I've been cooped up in the studio just fucking the piano.  Brandon seems to think I'm like, the whore of Babylon or something.  If only he knew.  All he does is ask questions and all I do is deflect.  I'm sick of questions.  He says it's like pulling teeth. 

I'd rather he pull my teeth.

At least that would feel, like something.

I think he's been following me.  He wonders what I'm up to.  I see him in his car all the time.  He never sees me.  His eyes are always straight on the road.  Or he's on the phone or something.  I'm watching him watch me, pretending not to watch me, and unaware that I'm watching him.  Actually.  He wouldn't go to the trouble. 

He's wearing dark glasses and a party hat.  And I look like a flasher in my trenchcoat and barelegs.

Together we're like Chinatown.  Together we're film noir. 

Except I really am a black widow.  I killed my lover, and now I'm haunted by him.

My daughter.  My sister.  My daughter.  My sister. 

Slap me already Jake.  Give it to me hard this time.

My unchanging, doll's face.  How ridiculous.  I think everyone is looking at me, and I'm only seeing myself.