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They said you were a nickel a million
or something like that.
Well I thought you were some pair
to this romance-high writer
lost in 50's films. I couldn't
have busted your seams that bad.
I remember driving a P.O.S.
where you attempted song with
flawed poetic rip offs
in monotone keys. You skipped
parts unknown
mimicking a duet with silence.
After smoke cleared,
my mind let something snake past
dressing my face in a cheesy grin.
"Baby, when I get the money,
you'll be getting lessons."
>>>>[I thought that before
>>>>in a dreamland reality.
>>>>More like last months ******** up trip,
>>>>the wind mocks with
>>>>an angelic chorus in behind
>>>>singing of that denied land.]
>>>>But that is past
>>>>and you, baby, are future addiction.
Why don't you just
(build a tower
of your flatened ego
so I can hear how my giggles
float out fallen walls) stay a little longer.
Maybe tomorrow I'll withstand
one sober moment with you.
We'll take that stingless bass
for another ride
and this time the music's on me,
just like it use to be.
They said I was a dandelion
in a field of weed(s),
but aren't those the same thing?
You corrected it humming I was a rose.
Then my drugged escape repotted me.
(Drive back and pick me out again.)
 Lovers Never Tell · Thu Jul 24, 2008 @ 09:18am · 0 Comments |
