(For you, Mom...just because)
She is just a postcard vendor in her booth along the boardwalk
Where she sits among her castles that are made of shells and sand.
She lives the lives of strangers as she listens to their sad dreams,
As she waits for Fate to come along and take her by the hand.
She's just a postcard vendor and she sits upon her camp stool
Eating oranges and Cheetos, sipping Pepsi that's on ice.
Her radio is playing all those sad and silly love songs,
The kind that make her heart beat sort of fast, just once or twice.
She's just a postcard vendor and she's lonely and she's frightened
But her smile can trick you into thinking everything's all right.
Then she puts away her baubles and her glitter and her stardust
And she fades into the sunset, footsteps lost within the night.
Written by MissKris
July 30, 1988