She runs to the club with some cash
She smokes clouds every single night

Should be glad that she's alive
When she asks them to be high?
I don't know but they sure will be aware of it
Josephine is not your kind
In her head she sees butterflies with pistols
She believes in magic and rhymes
But she sleeps with acid

And pays him with a laugh
Do her parents know it's for real

You tried hard to see her eyes

Gets the very best of a man
Josephine is not your kind
Don't you see she is not a mystery?
And spends them all on pleasure
Taking care of her
But they're made for others
She believes in ravers with dimes
You tried hard to make her fine
In her head there's some old drug