Email: my sweetheart is made of clay she is an international model she looks pretty as a flower in may through the bottom of a bottle sometimes i can see her face staring off into space she won’t look at me that’s best don’t look at me my sweetheart is a figurine she’s my dancing diva i got my eyes closed on a nicotine high waiting for a curtain to rise sometimes she sings out loud & i feel like a fake crowd she won’t notice me that’s best don’t notice me my arms are just a bit matter of fact she puts her arm around me like a towel on a rack my sweetheart is a show not happening then she’s my darling and i wake up ready to say i think i’ll make us happy one day sometimes i can see her face staring off into space she won’t look at me that’s best don’t look at me