Charlie sat
Counting the few loonies and toonies
That had slipped through the cushions in the couch
And the few bills that had managed to escape from her college fund
That her single mother kept in a glass box beside her bed
The whole time taking peaks at the ripped magazine page
The one with that IT sweater circled in red
That sweater that would make her almost A's expand to double D's
That sweater that would make all the lip gloss wearing girls
Remember her chap stick wearing face
And all the jersey clad boys that can remember Angelina Jolie
But can not seem to remember Charlie Robb
Finally chant her name as if it were a prayer at half time
That sweater that would make a broken girl, whole
That sweater that would make a shy girl, sing
That sweater that would make a chained girl, soar
That sweater that would make a 16 year old girls world spin 'round
And'roundAnd'roundAnd'roundAnd'roundAnd'roundAnd'round