You said that satire is not your favorite flavor ice cream
well sweetheart that is too **** bad
the broken clock on my wall
is right more than you’d think
and this broken record may make you seasick
but I wouldn’t trade it for all the pretty girl smiles in the world
you said I dress like a poor man when really I’m a smiling white faced teen
well you dress like one of my wet dreams
so who’s really winning?
so my lines are played out? Washed up? Dried up? Flat?
So my howl is more of a yawn? My leaves of grass more like turf?
well crucify me to your canvas little miss art
I look good in red and blue
you said I take things too personally
or not at all
you said that apathy isn’t really that attractive
well neither is *******, but somehow you pull it off
you said you think we’ve still got a few weeks of winter left
so how come I can feel the clouds beginning to break over head?
you’re right. I am wrong. You are wrong. I am wrong. You are right.
would you pass me the ashtray please
I think I may have gotten ahead of myself
this headache is too large for advil to tame
and my throat is itching again
so, just for a while, I think I’m going to put you on hold