© 2026 misscalamity miss-calamity.com ______________________ Heliconia, motel curtains Wildfire burnin through my mind Mama says nothin in this world is certain Asks if I’ll be home by nine Gotta sweetheart, four years my senior A Chevy Nova the he can’t pay off Says he’s getting out come Friday Friday comes and our shirts come off Bain de Soleil all over my skin Copper-colored, cheap and streaked Everybody talkin, to my chagrin Everybody’s here next week Go, little Nova, go Get me where nobody knows Gotta make it to the next plateau But my lungs are full of no-oh-ohs Oh, heliconia I know I oughta open up I’m too young to feel this old Turn it up, turn it up Glamour Shots in a feather boa Coal eyes and hot-iron curls Twenty-nine ninety-five to look like Somebody else’s little girl Fireworks beyond the beltway Feel them burn behind my ribs Everybody looking up I’m watching where the exit is He says, “Baby, ain’t it pretty?” I say, “Baby, ain’t it loud?” Red flowers over everybody Little ashes coming down Go, little Nova, go Get me where nobody knows Gotta make it to the next plateau But my lungs are full of no-oh-ohs Oh, heliconia I know I oughta open up I’m too young to feel this old Turn it up, turn it up New wave, old ache Same boy, same place New wave, old ache Eat it till it has no taste I kept a little suitcase underneath the bed With a memoir and a magazine I never read Had a map from the lobby with the coast torn off Had a whole other life till I got laid off I laughed when he laughed, put my feet on the dash Made a wish on the cigarette he flicked in the grass And I liked what he liked, yeah I didn’t mind staying With the passenger window only halfway opening My heart was tickin and the song was skipping Looked in your eyes for the final sign And you seemed uncertain, heart behind curtain Open the door and you weren’t mine In a voice so nonchalant He said, “What more do you want?” (What more?, what more?) What more do you want? Go, little Nova, go You can keep the boy, keep the radio I’m arriving at the next plateau Gettin out of here on my own Oh, heliconia I know I oughta open up I’m too young to feel this old Turn it up, turn it up New wave, old ache Run till the color fades New wave, old ache Friday turns to Saturday
