we've been poisoned
with hopes and dreams
of "true love"

its hysterical
how naïve we are
we fell so hard
put ourselves on the line
for a poorly constructed ideology

you idiot
darling i'm such an idiot
to think there was good
in this world
to think there was a chance
that selfless love existed

ah, what a fool
to think marriage
was anything more
than a social norm
a convenience
that relationships
were actually based on anything
more than a false sense of
comfort and security

highschool kids
throwing away their future
bunch of immature children
tricked into thinking
that someone could make them whole
"let's get married"
"let's run away"
"we're in loooove"
we've poisoned our youth
love should be the last thing
on their mind

women giving up their dreams
men giving up their lives
for W H A T
the idea that
someone could keep them
from drowning
darling
oh darling
i wish that were true

but
w a k e u p

no one can save you
love is cursed.
we are cursed.

love,
in its own essence
does not exist
and i was such a fool
such a ****** fool
to think it lasts

i guess it just made me feel relaxed
to think that there was one part of my life
that could be just for me
i thought love was my escape
i'm holding up the world
i thought it would give me a break
rest my head
HAH
hysterical
i swear to God i'm in fits of laughter

believe in love?
ask the kid of messy divorce
ask the single mom with no idea where her baby daddy went
ask the girl with a broken heart
ask the boy who gives his all, in return for none

love
is
just
another
word
for
loss.

sorry to burst your bubble
but
your idea of "love"
**doesn't exist

At this point I feel like the universe is mocking me.
It might not be that I don't see god, but that I can't.
The past comes fast to bite my heels every time I
think that I'm making progress. I'm wiser now than
I was before, it's clear, I affirm as I take today's pills
so I can step out the door. Suicide was a big deal
but I never did it. Over time I realized how good
it is to choose friends. How safe it is to manipulate --
over self-destruction, what an improvement. A
sad sea of years is only bad with a lack of grasp
on the force that pushes you with an eager
wind. How safe is it to say, simply that I've changed
for the better and made improvement?

We broke the truce way back when,
you thought I was God and I couldn't prove it.

History repeats with a new veneer. A new sheen
to improve the wrapping of the package.
The package's contents remain the same.
History repeats with a new veneer. A new sheen
to improve the wrapping of the package.
The package's contents remain the same.
History repeats with a new veneer. A new sheen
to improve the wrapping of the package.
The package's contents remain the same.

She sees left and right whilst upside down,
laughing in hysterics at idealistic semantics.
She jauntily journeys to and from small towns,
smiling dead smiles at boys being subtly romantic.

They all want her, the mean queen without a crown,
to be captured by one or another comely fellow.
They all see the lies, under painted makeup thick as a clowns,
she tells with those brown eyes shaded in true yellow.

I see her, my child, my dear, my eyes look around
shiftily calculating the great fortunes I would pay
to knot fingers in her hair, to hear her heart pound.
There she goes now, along on her merry way.

Not that I would join in all the lads attempting her heart,
for fear of the magnificent nothings I would say.
I imagine my presence would give her quite the start,
when she sees I'm true yellow, being born to be afraid.