I’ve got a brand new pair of roller skates, but I am nobody’s key.
They rolled in hot pink bubble gum, but stuck to the sides and bleed. Roads for miles with streets past the corner, the ground is stretched on neon. They roll past gravel and pave plumping stickiness until nobody is left to deceive.
I’ve got a brand new pair of roller skates, but there is no actual key.
They could leave if they want to, but actually they can’t because people can’t roll the same way. People head home. People go to work. Their feet got stopped up in sweetness.
“I’d go if I could, but I just can’t move.” The path is too pretty to leave.