Everything’s so easy for Pauline   Everything’s so easy for Pauline   Ancient strings set feet alight   To speed to her such mild grace   No monument of tacky gold   They smoothed her hair   With cinnamon waves   And they placed an ingot in her breast    To burn cool   And collected   Fate holds her firm in its cradle   And then rolls her for a tender pause to savor   Everything’s so easy for Pauline      Girl with the parking lot eyes   Margaret is the fragments of a name    Her bravery is mistaken for the thrashing in the lake   Of a make believe monster whose picture was fake   Margaret is the fragments of a name   Her love pours like a fountain   Her love steams like rage   Her jaw aches from wanting   And she’s sick from chlorine   But she’ll never be as clean   As the cool-side-of-satin Pauline   Pauline      Two girls ride the blue line   Two girls walk down the same street   One left a sweater sitting on the train   And the other lost three fingers at the cannery      Everything’s so easy for Pauline   For Pauline   For Pauline