I’d like to try that **** where I don’t rhyme
I say to the willow tree as I sit beside her
I like men who are creative
This is me trying to be THAT guy
Honestly, though, I don’t think it’s working
I’m stuck inside most days
It used to be self-inflicted
But it’s paid, now… is that the same?
Like a grandfather clock
I’m passing back and forth on this ever
Wavering face of feelings marked as numbers
Like ******* clockwork, I can almost time my feelings
There’s the norm for you.
Have I scared you away yet?
Hell, I don’t think you’d ever say honestly.
I could always be wrong though…
But will you look at me the same?
I can’t seem to be a man in either respect.
I don’t **** ******* and punch *****
But I don’t give up myself and hang on sticks.
I don’t know where I am
And that last stanza left a ******** taste
Than the aftertaste of lemon shanty.
Yeah, that ******
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 12:36 AM UTC
I’d like to try that **** where I don’t rhyme
I say to the willow tree as I sit beside her
I like men who are creative
This is me trying to be THAT guy
Honestly, though, I don’t think it’s working
I’m stuck inside most days
It used to be self-inflicted
But it’s paid, now… is that the same?
Like a grandfather clock
I’m passing back and forth on this ever
Wavering face of feelings marked as numbers
Like ******* clockwork, I can almost time my feelings
There’s the norm for you.
Have I scared you away yet?
Hell, I don’t think you’d ever say honestly.
I could always be wrong though…
But will you look at me the same?
I can’t seem to be a man in either respect.
I don’t **** ******* and punch *****
But I don’t give up myself and hang on sticks.
I don’t know where I am
And that last stanza left a ******** taste
Than the aftertaste of lemon shanty.
Yeah, that ******
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