This is real
This is real
I do not merely imagine these feelings
I am not some bourgeois housewife
Falling into the pattern
Coffee in the morning with the paper
*** every other Thursday night
Don't forget to pack their lunches
I will not be the moonless nights
When I can feel the sunshine
Playing music on my skin
I am under the influence of affluence
I cannot buy myself what I need
Yet I fight on for this feeling
And let the blood all spill