Magazine

Maybe you're a magazine
I pick up and flick through
When the world's turning bad
Or the headlines are all my head can have
Maybe you're a magazine I read
When my day's going bad.

Maybe you're a flick book,
Where, if I only took the time to look
The picture that I'd see
Would be the girl who I love
Between the spaces of me.

Maybe I'm a magazine
Rolling down the street
All rain and roses
Crushed in defeat.
Maybe you'll throw me away
Maybe you'll forget about me.