I move like a whisper among my neighbors.
The lasso grips tight--
I cannot seem to loosen its grip.
My **** makes sounds like a banjo
As it hits the bowlwater.
My mind ever drifts.
So restless my soul since
Once again I maintain the solitary man,
Coming back to what has always been known.
The lasso wants to mercilessly hang on
To memories. I have to move on!
This stallion must find good, green pasture!
I fight the bitterroot of jilt.
I fight the saltiness of heartbreak.
Love has such a powerful lasso…
Love is such a powerful wrangler.
Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 10:47 PM UTC
I move like a whisper among my neighbors.
The lasso grips tight--
I cannot seem to loosen its grip.
My **** makes sounds like a banjo
As it hits the bowlwater.
My mind ever drifts.
So restless my soul since
Once again I maintain the solitary man,
Coming back to what has always been known.
The lasso wants to mercilessly hang on
To memories. I have to move on!
This stallion must find good, green pasture!
I fight the bitterroot of jilt.
I fight the saltiness of heartbreak.
Love has such a powerful lasso…
Love is such a powerful wrangler.
