I hear the click clack click of the camera eye 
bent by the rays of the summer sun 
fall sick and quietly 
drown in the cracks in the cracks of her windshield 
there is a wind that blows through the window 
slip fall down and bump my little head 
but there is no sympathy 

Shutterbug you are the end, you are the writing on the wall 

I hung around with you in your bedroom 
counting all your finger and your toes 
to pose for photographs 
keeping the time with the flicks of your fingers 
we fell asleep too tired to remember 
all the things we did that afternoon 
to make my summer head 
float like a bug on the skin of the water 

Shutterbug I could not wait to get my fingers on you 
Shutterbug you are the end you are the writing on the wall