I never mastered the grind.
That won every girls affection.
I guess it's really quite difficult.
When you become your own deflection.

Once I was that nineteen year old.
Drunk and disorderly.
Grinding on your back.
You got bored of me.

Sure its fun - for both it seems.
Sometimes it's a horrid match.
A silly game with an undefined winner.
Sometimes it's all you need to land your catch.

But as you grow you see things clearly.
The smoke machined air thins and the lights begin to brighten.
You see the complexity of your dilemma.
You've assumed you'd get it all - what a great big error.

You want the beauty you've desired night long.
But you've gone about it all wrong.
You want the companion most never find.
But will she see it or remain blind.

It seems one is possible.

Where do I go to be one whole person?