There are so many people
And they’re all so different
So I can’t treat them equal
Which makes me distant
I try to be aerial
But all the variables
Create a scary hole
Of impairing cold
So I simplify the equation
To just understanding you
But you find your elation
With the rest of the zoo
The parabola in my pants
When we prance
Is not up to chance
It’s like a leaf on its branch
I’m the DuBois that’s Blanche
Left in a trance
Through interrogation
I find variation
That spares relation
Causing alienation
Changes in your mood
Range from rude to lewd
Which isn’t something new
Just something I outgrew
Like America and Spiro Agnew
Or Fox News and what’s true
I no longer want to be with you
But I don’t want to be part of society
They’re always judging my propriety
By saying my kind acts sloppily
So by transitive property
They’re actually mocking me
Hauntingly
They’re all angels and demons
They all have different reasons
Depending on the seasons
Determining their legion
Or excuse for treason
They say variety is the spice of life
But to me it’s more like lice at night
Making me itch from light little bites
Until I’ve lost my sight
And can’t fight this fight
On varying heights
Mar 28, 2019
Mar 28, 2019 at 9:51 PM UTC
There are so many people
And they’re all so different
So I can’t treat them equal
Which makes me distant
I try to be aerial
But all the variables
Create a scary hole
Of impairing cold
So I simplify the equation
To just understanding you
But you find your elation
With the rest of the zoo
The parabola in my pants
When we prance
Is not up to chance
It’s like a leaf on its branch
I’m the DuBois that’s Blanche
Left in a trance
Through interrogation
I find variation
That spares relation
Causing alienation
Changes in your mood
Range from rude to lewd
Which isn’t something new
Just something I outgrew
Like America and Spiro Agnew
Or Fox News and what’s true
I no longer want to be with you
But I don’t want to be part of society
They’re always judging my propriety
By saying my kind acts sloppily
So by transitive property
They’re actually mocking me
Hauntingly
They’re all angels and demons
They all have different reasons
Depending on the seasons
Determining their legion
Or excuse for treason
They say variety is the spice of life
But to me it’s more like lice at night
Making me itch from light little bites
Until I’ve lost my sight
And can’t fight this fight
On varying heights
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