Nico

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Nico

She wants to be like Nico
Dark and slim, mysterious and dim
In love with him.
Hanging around smoking long cigarettes,
Day dreaming in cafes, learning to forget.
Drifting across the cracks in the New York sidewalks
Staying in bed till three, talking the street talk.
She wants to be like Nico
But she lives in Bellshill
She’s just failed her standard grades
And her mother is ill.
She ate a deep fried pizza and bought an NME,
Some more black eyeliner and a cup of sweet tea.
She found the old LPs in her dad’s collection
When life makes no sense, you just make up connections.
She wants to be like Nico
And ride a white horse,
She’s dead – of course.