You said that satire is not your favorite flavor ice cream well sweetheart that is too **** bad the broken clock on my wall is right more than you’d think and this broken record may make you seasick but I wouldn’t trade it for all the pretty girl smiles in the world you said I dress like a poor man when really I’m a smiling white faced teen well you dress like one of my wet dreams so who’s really winning? so my lines are played out? Washed up? Dried up? Flat? So my howl is more of a yawn? My leaves of grass more like turf? well crucify me to your canvas little miss art I look good in red and blue you said I take things too personally or not at all you said that apathy isn’t really that attractive well neither is *******, but somehow you pull it off you said you think we’ve still got a few weeks of winter left so how come I can feel the clouds beginning to break over head? you’re right. I am wrong. You are wrong. I am wrong. You are right. would you pass me the ashtray please I think I may have gotten ahead of myself this headache is too large for advil to tame and my throat is itching again so, just for a while, I think I’m going to put you on hold