Literary Selves

She said, "I swear I'm there
I'll go 'til you go"
She said, "I don't care, but you wouldn't dare
If you knew what I know"

She said "I'm just south of Queen St
Watching high-heeled girls dry heave
Trust me, that's been me
Nights like these, I wish that was me"

She said, "Meet me at the bar with the bar rail deals
For around 30 bucks we can forget ourselves
And after a few more rounds pretend we're each someone else
Like if you'll be my Gatsby, I'll be your Daisy"

At the end of the night she said
"This ain't the end of the night"
She said, "Put me in a cab, drive me around"
Looked up with her sad brown eyes and said

"I want to see your place
See what a disgrace you live in"
She looked at my house, at my book shelf
And laughed at my lame literary self

She said, "Meet me underneath your bed sheets
And for around an hour and a half we can act like we aren't lonely
And after you fall asleep I can disappear in the streets
Just like you're my Gatsby, and I'm your Daisy

And you can end up hating me, use me in one of your stories
And justify to yourself why you had to go through such hell
And you can put me up on your bookshelf"

She said, "I think you think you're just as reckless as me
And that I'm everything that you need
I think you're just as pathetic as me
And everything that I need"

She said, "If you'll be my Gatsby, I'll be your Daisy
If you'll let me, I could be the death of you"
And I said, "I'll be your Gatsby, if you'll be my Daisy
I'll let you be the death of me"