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Josephine is not your kind She believes in magic and rhymes You tried hard to make her fine But she sleeps with acid Do her parents know it's for real When she asks them to be high I don't know But they sure will be aware of it She smokes clouds every single night Should be glad that she's alive In her head she sees butterflies with pistols Josephine is not your kind She believes in ravers with dimes You tried hard to see her eyes But they're made for others She runs to the club with some cash And spends them all on pleasure In her head there's some old drug Taking care of her Gets the very best of a man And pays him with a laugh Don't you see she's not a mystery
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