my sweetheart is made of clay
she is an international model
she looks pretty as a flower in may
through the bottom of a bottle
sometimes i can see her face
staring off into space
she won't look at me
that's best
don't look at me
my sweetheart is a figurine
she's my dancing diva
i got my eyes closed on a nicotine high
waiting for a curtain to rise
sometimes she sings out loud
& i feel like a fake crowd
she won't notice me
that's best
don't notice me
my arms are just a bit matter of fact
she puts her arm around me
like a towel on a rack
my sweetheart is a show not happening
then she's my darling
and i wake up ready to say
i think i'll make us happy one day
sometimes i can see her face
staring off into space
she won't look at me
that's best
don't look at me