In an auction, You are one limited-edition piece, That everyone wants to get a hold of, Like you are the only person that matters, A person whose worth of great value. And here I am, Clowning myself as one of your bidders, Pathetically, competing with a dollar compared with millions. And without a doubt, I lost, But how can I lose, if you are not mine in the first place?
I fall down it's taken, my crown. Queen on the ground my eyes wide and round. Standing's no option my heart's already on auction. My gown is tainted in his lawful hatred. My throne is gone, for me, there is no dawn. He kneels, "are you okay?" he doesn't know, it is my last day. "Please, go", I cry as I convince myself to prevent us from 'one more try'.
I could never understand Cruelty of the heart Even when it loves So intensely.
Sometimes when I look at myself in a mirror, I picture me up for bid at an auction house. Describe the condition of the item, All the buyers are coming out. I am not exceptional, acceptable. A twenty something Chandler Bing in present tense. Look he uses jokes at his defense.
I see he functions pretty well But the description has a lot tell, If he should inhale a certain smell He could drop dead. It's like a wild card, the bids would start Questions fired, they aren't going far. How's his education, how about social relations? Opening my mouth to answer, They aren't waiting.
I heard he went to college! Oh, I heard that he dropped out. I heard he never misses work, I heard that's the only time he goes out. Does he eat, there isn't much meat on his bones? Maybe he should grow ****** hair, Maybe he won't.