Golden words penned long ago when I was young and zesty occupied with lofty things perhaps a lot less testy.
That which clouds my vision tragic losses which destroyed sweet perceptions dark deceptions left me underjoyed.
Of boyfriends unattainable rejection would then smite the hope of finding love, which left me just a bit uptight.
in the stretch to earn a living well my boss is kind of rough In trying to say something nice I'm on ice cuz she's hard-headed, driving, and tough.
The high cost of living and then there's the tax puts a strain on my old bank account but that backbiting backriding queen battleaxe can jump from the ground to the mount.
and every day's the same old thing like a hamster on the wheel the same old thing is looking old and Iām feeling cold as steel.
but still I ignore the passing of time and balance hard work with clean fun and believing that this is as good as it gets I'll settle for less than the one.
seeking distraction from everything dull and attracted to that which you are I read self help books while you eats what I cooks and you're lost in the Harper's Bazaar.
My cellulite was ill replete and disappointments grew and long before the smog moved in it choked the thrill from you.
and out of this stress comes the need to digress so we sleep and we play and we drink and we drain our desires and ***** up our wires and leave our *** life on the brink.
Simple amusements, the clutter of things common to man and his beast from the pretense of knowledge and so many things to the Thanksgiving holiday feast.
And now we're blown out, you lie and I shout there's a palpable distance that's haunted I long for the day when you'd hold me and say that I'm the THE ONE you've always wanted.
But now mediocre, you opt to play poker and run with a sweatpool of stink and hoping to find something good on the street in the morning you feel like a fink.
Left to your own devices sleeping soundly, your heart's one desire for passion it waits, while the office debates and will do so until you expire.
Displacing my anger I'm less satisfied and will never see straight, as you'll see my own crooked finger was put through the wringer and now it points straight back at me.