Back in high school I knew a girl,
Not too simple and not too kind,
We both grew up but I heard she changed,
From a New Wave fan to another kind.
She thinks she's Edith Head or Helen Gurley Brown,
Or some other cultural figure we don't know a lot about.
She thinks she's Edith Head but you might know she's not,
The accent in her speech, she didn't have growing up.
It's been years since I moved away,
But at Christmas I come home,
And saw her reflection in the window of a store,
She was talking to herself,
Not too simple and not too kind.
I walked on by.
It was complicated and stuck in my mind.
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