The day they make me gorgeous
The day they make me GORGEOUS
I'd like to just hang around
Like a ceiling fan mounted upside down
I'll only have three settings
And all of them will seem to s** air out of the room
Like
Gorgeous
Gorgeouser
Gorgeousest
*Gasp*
Look at me!
No, look at me, why don't you?
Gorgeous is the antidote to eyesore
Gorgeous is an extra special helping of appropriate
For all I know, gorgeous is six bars on your cell phone
Always
And they seem to show up like exclamation points
OR
There is a gorgeous thesaurus somewhere
Where the synonyms are suitable for framing
The h*monyms all rhyme with “UHH, AHH!”
And the word “clandestine” doesn't even have a definition
Gorgeous is a pristine sentence in the present tense
Gorgeous is the very edge of the bell curve
The hunchback on the other edge clangs the bell curve's clacker against
And that hallow little GONGGGGGGG…
The day they make me gorgeous
That'll be my theme song
‘Cause I shot the crapshoot
And
Just what is the math behind aesthetics, anyway?
Because me plus charismatic
For example
Does not equal gorgeous
And I should know
I shave me
And I scribble
Stunning is only skin deep
On that little scrap of toilet paper
I tend to tear away
The days my blemished face
My blemished face
Has bled enough
But the day they make me gorgeous
If they just begin with the skin
I swear
I'll take care of the deep stuff
Gorgeous does not put the “ow!” in shallow
People put the “ow!” in shallow
Gorgeous is like a new pair of shoes
Slung over a power line
On a summer day
Where the asphalt is hot
You're barefoot
And the ice cream truck is invisible
Except
Instead of new shoes
It's a pair of angels
Handcuffed together
And instead of a power line
It's a tight rope in a circus
And even the clowns below
With their big, round, impotent net
They stare up thinking
Oh that is really something to look at
Gorgeous is its own reward
Gorgeous doesn't have a weatherman
Gorgeous is never, ever “…what was your name again?”
And I know you know what I mean
It's either Halloween
Or it's not Halloween
You either pretty much look the way you always do
Or you don't
And the day they make me gorgeous
I won't
I'll be first place county fair kind of rare
I'll eat dressing room mirrors for breakfast
I'll be, I'll be, I'll be, I'll be
Like the edge of an egg
Fragile
Hard
Impossible
Flawless
Because maybe gorgeous is a little bit like me after all
Except
Instead of a little bit
It's exactly like me
And instead of me
I'm gorgeous