She talks.

She talks about every pointless matter,

But she doesn’t know she’s vain.

She talks about her life like she’s a god,

But she’s never known any pain.

She talks of petty things,

Too many things.

She doesn’t know she makes us drained.

So she continues to talk of life,

But it only makes us go insane.

All she does is talk too much.

All she does is show she’s plain.