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 |