Because I dare dare not no more.
hipster girl
there's a little hipster girl
I met through a baroque
révérence to anarchists on a summer night
she wears jeans
but wears them well
(with a subtly enigmatic smile)
her hair changes hues as the seasons come and go
there's this little hipster girl
I met through friends that knew her not
she blushes every second phrase
but wears it well
(with a chequered shirt)
her hair half hides her eyes sometimes
almost conveniently
she's a weird mix, this hipster girl
unpredictably devious
the other day
she stole a packet of Karelias
with a smile I've made up in my mind
(I bet she hid her eyes with her blonde summer hair)
the other day
she took a thick black marker
and wrote BORING BORING BORING
all over my brand new diary
then flew away
in a normal airplane
wings and wheels and turbines and all
as if it were no big deal
this little hipster girl
she lives across the sea
and Shakespeare is so old
so predictably
unbearably poetic
her hair is brown now
like the barks of winter-trees
but still flows like the sea
between us
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