Ginger & Ruth

The quotidian aches and pains

Of being a being

All the small nothings, they’re something

The bric-a-brac euphoria

Every problem’s not mine to solve

Ruth built a shrine to all

The passers-by, the banal

Ginger fears death

But Ruth says that life’s where the pain’s at

Ginger’s a bored one

Well, Ruth is a bear and Ginger’s a brat

Well, back in New York where the fun’s at

Waiting at the train tracks

Ginger is arguing in her head

With her boss—some bullshit hen

Well, Ruth, she walks down the platform

In black

She says it’s good to be back

In the city—the big brick hive

Ruth says, When all else fails

Dig the hippie shit like it’s working

Ginger gets frustrated

And Ruth just shifts round the wording

Ginger, you’re so good to me

But your worry is disconcerting

Ruth, don’t overthink it!

Now come back to bed I’m just bursting