It's not like the last time when I was younger I didn't let my aloofness make my plunder go asunder I stayed open as the season in the boonies but no brunette bullet shells wanted a coat of peacock feathers
Is it these two gray hairs in my too short hair with the boring clothes and job scaring the mares back to the woods?
The suburban streets are lonely nothing but parent shut-ins and kids on bicycles So I go to the forests and the cities where you can walk together freely with the occupants in there
I wanna ask her for the time just so I can talk to her But she knows that I have a blue screen too that'll tell me just as well
I log onto the network to look up her haunts where I see her all the time I find her name and request she sees mine
I make up a story related to happenstance of mutual friends We write back and forth a few times 'Till the small talk stops, the replies end we see each other and avoid eyes