Original subtitles

Oh, my God.

Did you see that?

Your ass should be in school.

lt’s Saturday, dear Gypsy. Come out and play.

When are you gonna learn to drive...

like a normal 18-year-old?

Soon as you let me practice in the Trans.

ln your dreams.

Hello.

Hello, sunshine.

lt’s been, like, ten whole hours.

l know.

Oh, shit!

My sister.

Stay down.

Sorry.

Gypsy Vale, that three-for-one Thursdays idea of yours...

is going apeshit.

Top sales in north-central Ohio.

Cool.

Dinner for two, compliments of Polly Pearl.

Chili’s. l love Chili’s.

Try the low-cal potato poppers.

Keep it up, G-force.

You little shit.

l need to keep this job.

Hello.

Hi. lt’s Taylor, Connie.

Yeah.

Didn’t you go to Sandusky High?

Yeah. lt’s gonna be $9.48, please.

Gypsy something, right?

Vale. Gypsy Vale.

l see you’re still into Stevie Nicks.

Jammin’.

Hello, Connie.

Weren’t you going to be some big rock star or something?

Yeah. You sang at talent night. What was that?

Third grade? Oh, my God. How hilarious.

So, like... what happened?

That sure is some good eating, little lady.

Thank you for shopping at Foto-Hut.

Who is she now? Some loser housewife?

You’re the one who’s gonna be famous.

Hi, Carl.

Hey, dad.

Hey, mom. Hey, Charlie.

Give me the camera.

OK...Clive.

l come out with my back to the audience.

Total mystery and drama.

With the fog machine?

Smoke, Stevie wind, the whole damn nine.

And l take off my cape.

And three white-winged doves fly out.

And then, at the height of the guitar solo...

l come center stage.

And l fuckin’ twirl.

Stop. You’re giving me wood.

Go, baby! Go!

l want the world to hear my voice, you know.

l want them to write my lyrics on their AOL profiles...

just like they do Stevie.

And when my CD comes out...

l want all these assholes to line up at the fucking mall...

and kiss my ass one sound-scan at a time.

Excuse me.

May l ask you a question?

Do you think it’s appropriate to dance in a graveyard?

Don’t you think that we should dance while we can?

l think you should have more respect for the dead...

and especially for yourself.

Excuse me?

l didn’t want to mention this...

but you could be a very pretty girl...

but that would be inappropriate for any young lady...

especially for someone your size.

Look, Granny, l am a pretty girl, OK?

Big is beautiful. Haven’t you heard?

And for the record, l don’t give...

a flying fuck or a rolling rimjob...

what you or anyone else thinks of me.

You’re dismissed.

Hey, G.

Hey, daddy. lt’s gonna have to be the Colonel tonight.

OK.

Nails.

Cheers.

How was work?

Fucking fabulous. And you?

lt was pretty good.

l signed up a new kid for lessons today.

That’s awesome.

What’s this?

Something to write your lyrics in.

l love it. Thank you.

Why don’t we do one of your old Luna Angel tunes?

’’Crystal Sea?’’

OK.

l fell into a crystal sea

lnside a ship of fools like... me

Was it just a dream?

Was l floating ’round in circles?

Oh, your face, your face

ls all l see

l’ll be waiting here, my love

Forever and a year, my love

Waiting here for you, my love

Forget your trench coat, girlie boy?

Piss off!

Hey.

Hey, Lois.

Nice outfit.

Thank you. l like it.

My brother, he’s in the basement.

Gypsy?

This whole... gay thing.

He thinks we can’t deal, but cripe...

l had a gay friend in college.

We used to be so close.

ls he using... safe sex?

He’s a virgin.

Good. l just worry.

Look after him for me, OK?

l do.

Thanks.

Check it out.

Come here.

Clive.

Cool, G.

Did you finish my new shawl?

Not yet.

Could you please just ditch the fucking term paper...

and fix my face?

How could l improve on perfection?

All right, Mr. Straight-A...

l’m not getting nearly enough hard-core fagma this afternoon.

l’m sorry.

l’m just kind of down today.

l’ll help you get it up.

l’m kidding. What’s your paper on?

’’Stevie Nicks, unlikely godmother of goth.’’

Sterling.

Did you check on the Nicks-Pix?

They just posted some delicious new photos.

Oh, my God.

What?

The goth nightclub Mother announces...

their fifth annual ’’Night of a Thousand Stevies...’’

to be held on Tuesday, May fifteenth, in New York City.

A strict Stevie dress code will be enforced.

Suggested attire is...

’’Like a White-Winged Dove’’ Stevie realness...

all periods, including ’’Rhiannon’’ capes...

metallic shawls, baby’s breath, platform boots...

leather and lace, tophats, beribboned tambourines...

and the best hair in rock-and-roll.

Performers are to be selected at an audition screening...

before the show and compete for awards...

selected by a judging committee of Stevie experts.

Oh, my God. Let me see.

What?

Nothing.

lt’s just... lt’s cool.

Oh, my God. This is in four days.

We have to go to this.

You have to perform.

Earth to Gypsy.

Do you regret not taking Luna Angel to New York or L.A.?

You know, building on the Cleveland triumph...

really going for it?

Where did that come from?

l’d like a real answer, dad. No bullshit.

Not anymore.

You think l have what it takes...

to make it big or whatever?

As a totally objective party...

l think you are a superstar.

What if l told you that l know where Velvet is?

Look.

These were taken several years back...

at a club in New York City, and l’m thinking about going...

performing.

And maybe she’s still there.

We agreed that your mother is dead.

l know, but maybe she had a reason.

Maybe she could explain.

You know the reason, baby.

l know.

You don’t ever wish you went with her?

Everything l need to make me happy...

is right here in this room.

This is the life.

Last night, l dreamt we were in New York City.

We decided to stay.

That’s a good idea.

Then you could completely drop out of school...

and trash your 4.0. That’s smart.

Yeah.

Fuck it.

l don’t...

l can’t go.

lt’s just shitty timing, you know.

Maybe next year we could go. We could plan more.

No, we could be dead next year.

l’m sorry, sweet child.

You’ve been talking about getting out of Sandusky...

since l met you.

Yeah. Well, Sandusky’s not that bad.

My dad’s here.

OK. Look me in the eye...

and tell me that you’re happy in Ohio.

l’m happy in Ohio.

Did you just have an aneurysm?

Sometimes life is a tradeoff.

You’re eighteen, and you don’t get it.

Get off the gown.

You’re twenty-five, and you’re gonna be here...

until they bury your ass. Admit it.

What about our dreams?

My mom is alive.

She bailed on us.

Bye-bye.

When?

1983...

April thirteenth.

She moved to New York to be a big-time rock star.

Ended up tending bar... at Mother.

And you don’t want to see her?

No. l don’t really give a shit about her.

She’s your mom.

Don’t you fucking lecture me, kiddo.

She’s been dead to me since before you were born.

l’m sorry.

l bet you are.

Did you say good-bye?

You?

No. We’re runaways!

Farewell, Sandusky!

l don’t think l ever want to have sex.

- l’m serious. - OK.

l just want someone to kiss...

with big, soft, delicious lips.

He’d have to smother me in old-school romance.

l mean, candles and incense...

Moet and Chandon...

but only in a deserted castle in the south of France.

Oh, my God. You are so much more of a girl than l am.

Sex just seems so... messy.

Oh, no, no. Sex can be awesome.

Not that l would remember, but...

Maybe you and l should try.

l think l’m past my wayward-sex fag-hag test-fuck phase...

but thank you for the offer.

lt’s just ’’been there, done that.’’

At least l’d know for sure.

Honey, you’re a queer, with a capital ’’Q.’’

OK, you know what? Some of us...

don’t care to be defined by our sexuality.

OK. Sorry.

Can l ask you a question?

What?

Are you gay?

Yes! But l don’t have anything in common with those people.

l mean, like l give a rat’s ass about Judy Garland...

or... Stonewall.

Being queer is a very small part of me.

Yeah, whatever.

Wow.

So much beauty... all in one place.

Please give a warm welcome...

to international recording artist...

and karaoke hostess extraordinaire...

Miss Bambi LeBleau.

We love you, Bambi!

Maestro.

Yeah, girl!

When Sunny gets blue

Her eyes get dry and cloudy

Then the rain begins to fall

Pitter-patter, pitter-patter

Love is gone, what can matter

When no lover comes to call?

When Sunny gets blue

She breathes a sigh of sadness

Like the wind that stirs the trees

Wind that sets leaves a-swaying

Like some violins are playing

Weird and lonesome melodies

People used to love

To see her smile and laugh

That’s how she got her name

Since that sad affair

She lost her smile and changed her style

Somehow she’s not the same

But memories will fade

Pretty dreams will rise up

Where the other dreams fell through

Hurry, new love, hurry here

Kiss away each lonely tear

And hold her near when Sunny

Gets blue

Thank you so much.

She’s a genius.

l think l’m in love with her.

How are you feeling tonight?

My name is Bambi LeBleau...

and l’m delighted to be your hostess...

for an evening of karaoke in Maryland.

But if you’re feeling kind of shy tonight...

by all means... have another cocktail.

And our first request is...

Sigma Alpha Sigma.

Hello. My name is Troy.

We’re passing through from Ohio State University.

We’re training this year’s banner crop of pledges...

who will now entertain you fine folks with a song.

Enter, bitches.

l’m too sexy for my shirt

Too sexy for my shirt

Too sexy it hurts

l’m too sexy for Milan

What some people will do to belong.

Troy’s a little fox, though, huh?

They’re not my type.

Ten to one, he’s horse-hung.

Did you check out his thumbs? A dead giveaway.

Like l would care.

l think my dear boy doth protest too much.

OK, Miss Rock Star, fill one of those out...

and get your freak ass up there.

ln this dump? Please.

Do you actually care what these people think?

That’s a first.

Just consider it a dress rehearsal for New York.

Left, left, right, left...

Bye, guys. Next time, bring your togas.

l have to admit to you-all that l am out of requests.

So l need a volunteer.

Her!

- Yes. - No.

What are you worried about?

Come on. Do l have to come on down there...

and drag you up here? Come on.

Come on. What are you worried about?

Someone’s gonna show you up or something?

That’s right. Helps you compete, doesn’t it?

- l’ll be back. - There we go.

Please give a warm welcome to Gypsy 83.

l can see we’re thinking about the same thing and

And l see your expression when the phone rings

And we both know

There’s something happening here

There’s no sense in dancing ’round the subject

Come on. Come on.

...When it’s treated with neglect

So don’t turn now

There’s nothing here for you to fear

You can talk to me

You can talk to me

You can talk to me

You can set your secrets free, baby

Dusty words lying under carpets

Seldom heard, honey, must you keep your secrets

All locked inside

Hidden safe from view, oh-oh?

And was it all that hard?

ls it all that tough?

l showed you all my cards now

lsn’t that enough?

Oh, you can hide your hurt

But there’s something you can’t do

You can talk to me

You can talk to me

You can talk to me

You can set your secrets free, baby

That moron.

A big hand for Gypsy 83.

You’re a star in my book, baby.

l didn’t know it was Halloween.

You hurt? You rocked. Fuck them. Just fuck them.

Hey, you--fat chick and the fag.

This one’s for you.

How does this happen?

l’d like to dedicate this one...

to the redneck, beer-gut pig-fucker up on stage.

Yeah, you, bitch.

Why don’t you come down here and suck my fucking cock?

lnbred motherfuckers!

How about coming up to my pad for a nightcap?

l could probably use one.

Wow.

Cocktails?

l do a wicked Bloody Mary.

The bloodier, the better, right, baby?

- Lebleau. - OK.

Oh, my God.

This is amazing.

Let me apologize about tonight.

For some reason, this karaoke thing...

seems to attract the lowbrows.

You can say that again.

Believe it or not, in my day...

that joint was a classy place.

And we thought Sandusky was bad.

Thank God you rescued us.

Avec bon plaisir.

Where’s yours?

Teetotaler, baby.

So, where are you guys headed?

New York, New York.

Gypsy’s gonna be a famous rock star...

and l either want to be...

a photographer, a painter, a stylist, or a poet.

Here’s to New York City.

May all your dreams come true.

You’re good.

You could be great.

Please. l blew.

Rule number one--never let the assholes get you down.

Been there, done it, learned it the hard way.

As a matter of fact, you... remind me a lot of me...

when l was your age.

Yeah? How come?

You’ve got stars in your eyes.

You lived in New York?

Twenty-one years, baby.

Were you, like, famous?

That is you, isn’t it?

You’re dreamy.

Come on. Let’s hear some of your records.

You’d have to scrape the dust off, baby.

Come on. We think you’re sterling.

That was yesterday. l live for today.

- Please. - With sugar on top.

- You know you want to. - Never.

- This is so awesome. - Yeah.

God, what the hell are you doing in the middle of nowhere?

l’m out to pasture, retired.

You don’t miss it--

the big city and all the buzz-buzz, glamour-glamour?

The truth is no.

The first record was a smash, but then music changed.

Tits and cocktails went out, and the hustle came in.

Of course, that didn’t stop me from beating my head...

against the wall for 20 years.

One day l just woke up, looked in the mirror...

and said, ’’Give it up, girlie.’’

l’m sorry. l don’t get it.

You made it. You had a hit.

l had a blast.

Thank Christ l socked away the big bucks...

while l was still making them. So now l’m just...

living the good life.

You got a husband and kid stashed away somewhere?

Never wanted them.

Thanks, honey.

l had a dream, gave it my best shot.

C’est la vie.

You know what? This should really be...

on one of those Rhino reissues.

Excuse me?

Yeah. Lounge is totally hip again.

You’re yanking my crank.

Wait. Oh, my God. Total brainstorm.

You should come to New York with us...

and make your big comeback.

Oh, my God. lt’s brilliant.

l’m...

l’m fift...

for...

Let’s just say l am no spring chicken.

Seriously, you’d be totally cutting-edge.

l could photograph your album covers...

and design your costume.

l have a life here, sweetie.

So did we.

The return of Miss Bambi LeBleau.

What have you got to lose?

Really. l mean, you’re a singer.

Fuck.

Singers are meant to sing.

Let me think about it.

- Yes! - OK.

You think about it, but l’m going to New York...

first thing in the morning, so...

But right now, l really have to pee.

Through the bedroom, first door on the right.

May l have this dance?

Enchante.

Sorry about that.

Guess what.

Bambi said yes.

Are you sure it’s OK?

Yeah. lt’s awesome.

This is gonna be so cool.

Try as we may, l guess the dream never dies.

Does it?

No, l guess it doesn’t.

- What happened? - Don’t worry about it.

- l loved her. - Me, too.

Then what is your problem?

You’re going the wrong way.

Where are you going?

Home.

This was stupid.

Your ass belongs back in school.

Turn around... please.

Fuck. Fuck.

The night that Velvet left...

dad just didn’t know how to deal, you know.

So he looked me straight in the eye...

and he said, ’’Your mother left us...

’’because she loved her dreams more than she loved us.’’

Bambi never had a hit.

She’s a drunk.

She rolled the dice, and she came up bust.

Just like Velvet.

Bingo.

So you abandoned her like Velvet did you?

Maybe l refuse to give up my life for a pipedream.

We’re going home now.

Dad and Lois must be worried sick.

They’re grownups. They can take care of themselves.

l’m not doing it to my dad again. Get in the car.

What happened at talent night?

Excuse me?

ln third grade.

Screw you.

No. Gypsy, please.

Just tell me.

All right.

Spring jubilee, talent night.

Velvet taught me one of her favorite Stevie songs.

We practiced for weeks.

And dad showed me the chords on the guitar.

Anyway... a week before my big debut...

Velvet splits.

But l go through with it anyway...

because she’s gonna show, right? l mean...

She’s got to show.

So...

all the cutesie little kiddies...

and their perfect mommies and daddies are there.

And l get up on the stage...

singing and playing my little guitar...

And l pissed my dress.

lt ran down my leg and dripped off the stage.

And some guy with a mop came out...

and told me to get back to the audience...

and go find my mom.

Come here, sweetie.

Cool. Pick him up.

- Are you kidding? - Come on. The Amish rock.

Hello.

l’m Zachariah.

l’m running away.

OK.

So, Zachariah, have you ever been in a car before?

Never one this radical.

Do either of you have a cigarette?

You can smoke?

As of this moment, l can do anything l damn well please.

So, you running from something?

Conformity.

Boredom.

And cows.

May l pump?

Sure.

Awesome.

What do l do?

OK, no problem.

First, you unscrew the gas cap, like so.

On some cars, there’s a button on the inside...

you have to press to unlock it, but this is an older model.

And then you make your octane selection.

We’re on a budget, so we’ll use this one.

And then you put it in the hole...

and you simply pump away.

Yeah.

l really like your clothes.

l’m dying to get out of mine.

He’s gorgeous.

Come on, man. So is Norman Bates.

l know l would kill for that hat.

When you were walking over here...

l think l saw him staring at your ass.

- Shut up. - l’m not kidding.

Just my luck--an Amish sodomist.

Go for it.

What are you looking at?

Damn, honey, l don’t know. You ask them.

Are you guys some kind of dragon queens or something?

- l’m sorry? - Don’t even bother.

Look, honey, an Amish.

You people sure make a kick-ass pie.

That’s some good-eating pie.

What the fuck?

Fucking perverts.

Look. Check it out.

We’re hungry, mommy.

l am starving.

Anything in particular?

May l make a request?

Eat your Whopper before it gets cold.

Whopper? Oh, yes. Thank you.

l have a secret confession.

l was a fast-food virgin.

l have a secret confession, too.

Yeah? What is it?

OK. l’ve never really said this to anyone before...

but... l’m kind of a virgin, too.

What?

Normally l’m really not this forward...

but the light is so beautiful right now...

and l’m a little tipsy, and l...

l think you’re the most beautiful man...

that l’ve ever seen.

Me?

l’m flattered, but...

Oh, God.

l’m sorry.

He does this. lt’s OK. He’ll be back.

Who are you fucking girls pledging?

Sir, Sigma Alpha Sigma, sir.

Excuse me?

Sir, Sigma Alpha fucking Sigma, sir.

That’s better. Troy, you want to crash here?

Right on.

OK, guys. Get up. Up!

March. Go.

After a bottle of this...

our asses are camping right here tonight.

Absinthe--the green fairy.

Hey.

Hey.

So, where are your robots?

They’re in the camper. l needed a break from them.

Yeah, l bet you did.

Hi.

This stuff completely fucked me.

Who the fuck was that?

l don’t know.

Wait, wait.

Could you leave it on?

OK.

OK. lt’s OK.

OK.

Hey.

Hey, there.

OK, l think there’s...

some kind of twisted fag sex ring going on here.

Really?

That guy just looked at us...

like he wanted to peel off our boxer shorts...

and eat us for breakfast.

That is so wrong.

This is a public place.

Damn queers, man.

Yeah.

You can’t trust the...

l don’t even wear boxers.

What is that?

lt’s a ring.

l’m so fucking trashed.

You are so beautiful. You don’t even know it.

Look at me.

You gonna be all right?

l can go all by myself now, daddy.

l’m a big boy now.

l’ll be right out here if you need me.

Just think, this time tomorrow...

we’ll be in New York City.

The Big Apple.

God, l was so fucking nervous about the audition.

We are talking killer stage fright.

But now that l know you’re gonna be there...

Buzz-buzz.

Glamour-glamour.

We’re closed.

l guess we better put our clothes on.

You make me feel warm.

Don’t forget me.

OK.

No one has ever touched me like you.

l just wanted you to know that.

OK, l know it.

Forgive me, Gypsy.

l thought this was what l wanted.

l don’t understand.

l’m going back.

Back?

Home.

l am so, so sorry.

What did l do wrong?

Nothing.

No, you know what?

l’m not gonna let you.

l’m married.

And we’re gonna have a baby.

l will never forget you.

You’re just like all the rest, huh?

Fucking throw me in the garbage.

Do me a favor.

The next time you want some pussy on the side...

you can fuck a goddamn sheep...

and leave us women alone.

Get out!

Hey, baby.

How was it?

Where is he?

Why can’t they all be like you?

You OK?

What’s wrong?

Where’s Troy?

You hooked up with him.

Oh, my God.

l thought l would have been petrified...

but l just dove right in there.

You said you weren’t even into him. l don’t believe this.

You were so right about the thumb thing.

This is great.

This is just fucking sterling.

What’s wrong with you?

Now you can go join the fag club...

get a tan, big muscles...

some gorgeous boyfriend.

Don’t make me laugh.

l’m just wondering what the hell happens to me...

now that you’ve graduated to butt-fucking.

Where do l fit in?

Why is it always about you?

That’s bullshit. lt’s not always--

No, it’s always about you.

All you can ever think about is your own fat ass!

Where are you going?

l need my own space right now!

What are you doing?

Oh, my God.

Are you OK?

Maybe l’ll just catch a ride with Troy.

Shit. lf there is one scratch on--

Have a nice life!

Fuck.

The sun’s up.

Goddamn it!

You’re right!

OK?

Look, what you said...

about how l’m, you know, selfish or whatever.

l’ve been up all night.

You needed me, and l wasn’t there...

and then...

l’m sorry.

OK?

Look, baby, l was just a mess after Zachariah.

What did he do to you?

He fucked me, and then he dumped me...

for his wife.

Oh, my God. He’s married?

l always wondered how l’d feel when you finally did the nasty.

Part of me would be really happy for you.

Then the selfish bitch was always scared shitless.

Why?

Because... l don’t want to lose what we have.

Which is what?

Something sick and twisted...

that we both desperately need therapy for.

Look, all l know is, when l’m with you...

l was just about to say something really corny.

l’m afraid you’re gonna give your love to someone else.

But enough about me.

Let’s talk about you.

What do you mean?

l mean...

You can talk to me. Come on.

l won’t bite you.

OK.

l guess l thought that...

l was in love with you.

And l’m not.

lt’s more like... l worship you.

l’m a fag.

l’m really fucking gay.

l’m scared.

l know.

You’re gonna be OK.

You are so fucking dead!

- Valley freak! - Faggot!

Oh, my God.

Oh, yes, Lord.

We’re home.

Children of the night.

l, the Empress Chi Chi Valenti...

welcome you to the fifth annual ’’Night of a Thousand Stevies!’’

Silence!

Goddess Nicks, l call out.

lf you are present, reveal yourself.

Wherever you are tonight...

the recording studios of Los Angeles...

your desert home in Paradise Valley, Arizona...

please hear our call!

Please welcome our first performer...

on this most magical evening-- the lovely Enchantress.

Ask her.

- Love the look, lady. - Thanks.

l would really like to perform here tonight...

but l missed the audition.

l’m sorry. lt’s totally packed. l don’t...

Do you know Velvet Vale?

Anybody here who’s been here awhile?

Yeah. Chi Chi. She should be back there somewhere.

OK. Thanks.

- Hi. l’m Danny. - l’m Gypsy 83.

The judges will adore your cape.

Thank you. Actually, he deserves all the credit, though.

This is Clive, by the way. Excuse me.

l’m Hazleton.

Hi.

So, you’re into Poppy Z, right?

Yeah, of course.

Oh, my God. We have so much in common.

l’m obsessed with ’’Lost Souls,’’ you know.

lt’s so lyrical and completely and totally sensual.

Yeah. What a great album.

’’Lost Souls’’ is a book, sweetie.

Poppy writes books.

l’m kind of new at this.

Poser!

They’re just jealous because l like you.

Yeah, right.

Hazleton, darling, l think your boyfriend...

needs to use the bathroom to powder his nose.

Why don’t you try being a freak out in the real world?

You catty cunts.

Honey, here.

Let me see.

lt’s Robbie.

My name is Robbie.

l always hated it.

l mean, you know, ’’Clive’’ is way edgier, right?

l just don’t fit in... anywhere.

Could l see Chi Chi?

My, aren’t you the cat’s meow?

l know that you’re busy...

but l drove all the way from Ohio...

to perform here tonight.

Did you audition?

No. We got hung up.

Sorry, hons.

Do you know her?

That’s Velvet.

ls she here?

Chi Chi needs privacy.

Yes, Empress.

ls she performing tonight?

Open it.

This is me.

You have your mother’s eyes...

Gypsy.

You didn’t get your mother’s poems?

No.

She wrote to you for years. She never heard back.

No, l never got any poems.

Why isn’t she wearing this?

l’m sorry.

When?

Four years ago.

Why didn’t she come back for me?

My sweet darling, l’m so sorry.

Hello.

Daddy.

Sweetie, are you OK?

Where are you?

l’m in New York.

l thought so.

Are you sure you’re OK?

l’m gonna sing tonight, dad.

l wish you were here to watch me.

Yeah, me, too.

You know, l decided to finish the studio.

l’ve been working like a dog since you’ve been gone...

and l got the sixteen-track working really good...

and l thought, as soon as you get back...

we could start working on that album.

Why didn’t you tell me about the poems?

Did she recognize you?

She’s dead.

She killed herself, daddy.

And you want to be just like her, huh?

l love you, sweetheart.

Please come home.

l’m your daughter, dad. l’m not your wife.

l love you, too. l’ll call you soon.

Please welcome the daughter of Mother legend Velvet Vale...

Gypsy 83!

l wrote this song for my mother.

Lullabies

Her voice so sweet

l remember every moment

How she sang me fast asleep

And then the emptiness

The angry lace

All those gray Novembers

Lost, alone, can’t find my way

But you come running, arms wide open

Pick me up, and say we’re spinning

Mama’s home, her journey’s done

Gonna kiss your tears away

And you come running with your arms wide open

Pick me up, hey, we’re spinning

Mama’s home, her journey’s done

Gonna kiss your tears away

Now l’m awake

And l can see

Oh, the nightbird call you heard so strong

You passed along to me

And l’m still running, arms wide open

Hold you tight and pray l’m dreaming

Take me home with your sweet song

No more tears to wipe away

And l’m still running, arms wide open

Hold you tight and pray l’m dreaming

Take me home with your sweet song

And promise me

Promise me you’ll stay

Lullabies

Voice so sweet

Did you find it OK?

Yeah.

OK.

l know you’re doing the right thing...

but l still can’t help but try and think...

of things to make you stay.

l think sometimes you need to run away...

to figure out where you really need to be is home.

Still got stuff to figure out, don’t l?

l love you.

And l love you.

l want you to keep the Trans.

No.

l don’t need it anymore.

lt’s getting late.

Go, baby, please.

Drive it back someday.

OK?

Yeah.

Bye.