She was sixteen going on fifty I`m not quite sure exactly what that means But her speakers screamed Sinatra and the Zombies Her hair hung red around her ripped blue jeans She said she was Jim Morrison incarnate A psychic on La Brea told her so She asked me if I ever read Lolita She took my hand and lead me to her door And she said ... Let`s go to my room I`ll show my posters Let`s go to my room I`ll show you I`m a lover She locked the door behind me She lit a candle Then blew it out said the moon would do just fine The lizard king and T. Rex for wall paper Above her bed hung a No-Parking sign She asked me if I liked her decorator As she stripped behind a wall of raining beads I woke up with her pillow and her diary She took her bath as I began to read And she said ... Let`s go to my room I`ll show you my posters Let`s go to my room I`ll show you I`m a lover
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