I am a widow and I need a man to carry me I'm sweating desperation But you're too dim to pick up on it It's like I'm standing underneath The pink flamingo flashing I will settle down with the first one who swoons me I am the queen of comparison So I will f** you on my floor In my room, at my door We'll stain the sheets or wave our flag But I know we'll never have what I once had with him Sweep me off my feet and we'll saute our skin On that dead boy's bed I want to feel you f** me Because there wasn't much to feel anymore (What if I told you That you have the most Beautiful friends in the world? I don't think so) With the soul stolen Frame and magnet On the fridge My f**ing canvas That dead boy does not exist.