[color=maroon]
/me in comes loud and proud redhead, no one seems to see her, so she does a cartwheel, not the best thing to do in a skirt, the skirt rises, and she blushes as she lands gracefully on her feet, sliding into a split, wanting to break into song, but deciding not too, stands from her split, her having no pockets has to hide her phone in her under shirt and bra, pulling that out, presses the voice memo button, ”Write new songs” then pressing save, and sighing as she slides her phone back into it’s holder, smiling, making her way to the bar, and ordering a coke, not wanting to drink any alcohol, unless a guy buys it for her. Her knife tucked away in her converse knee high boot type thing, gets an idea for a song. And pulling a napkin and pen, writing it down and singing it in her perfect voice.
[b]” Can't make my own decisions/ Or make any with precision/ Well maybe you/ should tie me up/ So I don't go where you don't want me/ You say that I been changing/ that I'm not just simply aging/ Yeah how could that be logical?/ Just keep on cramming ideas down my throat/ You don't have to believe me/ But the way I, way I see it/ Next time you point a finger/ I might have to bend it back/ Or break it, break it off/ Next time you point a finger/ I'll point you to the mirror/ If God's the game you're playing/ Well we must get more acquainted/ Because it has to be so lonely/ To be the only one who's holy/ It's just my humble opinion/ But it's one that I believe in/ You don't deserve a point of view/ If the only thing you see is you/ You don't have to believe me/ But the way I, way I see it/ Next time you point a finger
I might have to bend it back/ Or break it, break it off/ Next time you point a finger/ I'll point you to the mirror/ This is the last second chance/ I'm half as good as it gets/ I'm on both sides of the fence/ Without a hint of regret/ I'll hold you to it/ I know you don't have to believe me/ But the way I, way I see it/ Next time you point a






