My name is Joy, Joy Chappell.
I was seventeen, and I was about to die..
And by the time I figured it out, it was too late.
But I was wrong.
I really thought the face inside was just a mask, one I could melt away with my Kodachrome soul.
Even with It, I never knew people were truly ugly until that night.
And when you\'re high to boot, everything is tinged with a soft mist, like an out of focus camera, and you trust people, thinking they just want to give you a ride.
But when you\'re a kid you see the world through your own eyes.
Naïve, I know.
It, making me dream that someday the light of hippie sun would shine down as we danced barefoot in meadows.
It that Mom hid with Cover Girl and I lied to my friends about.
It, the thing we never talked about.
Even though it was always on my mind.
Can a car stealing, pot smoking, LSD tripping chick be innocent? I thought so.
And maybe I was, in my own way.
Over the top, I know, but my Mom wanted me to sound all innocent.
My name is Joy, Joy Chappell
