Oct 24, 2007 14:46
Not necessarily the third song I wrote, but... a song. Inspired by Suzanne Vega.
Apple-Selling Woman
The president of the mega-corporation
is sitting by a bar with someone he'll never know,
and, maybe more important, someone who'll never know him,
Someone who will never understand
that
He would rather be an apple-selling woman,
freezing morning fingers red like none of her apples
He would rather be an apple-selling woman
by the name of Persephone Smith.
The other man, from the other corporation
discusses hunting, and taxes, way too high.
Studying saliva on a man who'll never know him,
he is thinking: 'He could never see
I'd rather be an apple-selling woman,
getting rather bored now by the sight of the cathedral,
see that I would rather be an apple-selling woman
by the name of, say, Persephone Smith!'
A female worker at one corporation
is packing apples on flexible hours
She has never heard of alien-a-nation,
but she feels in every aching toe
that She would rather be an apple-selling woman,
smiling at those customers who actually smile back.
Oh, how she would rather be an apple-selling woman
by the name of Persephone Smith.
Yup,
everyone would rather be, oh,
everyone would rather be, yeah,
everyone would rather be an apple-selling woman
except probably Persephone Smith...
poems,
the songs of martin h. olsson,
apple-selling woman