this is for you, love.
We speak in the store
I'm a sensitive bore
and you're markedly more
and I'm oozing surprise
But it's late in the day
and you're well on your way
what was golden went gray
and I'm suddenly shy
And the gathering floozies
afford to be choosy
and all sneezing darkly
in the dimming divide
I have read the right books
to interpret your looks
you were knocking me down
with the palm of your eye
This was unlike the story
it was written to be
I was riding its back
when it used to ride me
We were galloping manic
to the mouth of the source
we were swallowing panic
in the face of its force
I was blue and unwell,
made me belt like a horse.
Now it's done.
Watch it go.
You've changed some.
Water ruin from the snow.
Am I so dear?
Do I run rare?
You've changed some:
peach, plum, pear.
Oh, this town, with its people that just sort of get shuffled around together. I don't quite get it anymore, and I suppose that is why I am bound for the big city. And I suppose this really will be my last extended stay, and I feel as if I am sacrificing a great deal for my great big Los Angelian education (why did we choose to be educated by L.A. anyhow... that's a bit of a strange choice) Bass Pro Shop really did a good job of pointing out exactly why I can't be here anymore, though, and also the reason that YOU(plural) don't belong here either. Yes yes, you and I, we are meant for more exciting things.
It's hard to suddenly be an adult, when terrible news comes. And suddenly there is a strange rift between Laura and I, and I feel her looking at me... she hasn't looked UP to me in a long time. And to hold your mother is strange, after growing accustomed to crawling in her lap when you feel helpless. I am NOT a real person yet.
One thing I've learned... like, good and learned: Words are cheaper than the whores that live in my back alley, and those are like, lowest grade whores you can find, I'm sure. I do hope I am not becoming a cynic.
I'm a sensitive bore
and you're markedly more
and I'm oozing surprise
But it's late in the day
and you're well on your way
what was golden went gray
and I'm suddenly shy
And the gathering floozies
afford to be choosy
and all sneezing darkly
in the dimming divide
I have read the right books
to interpret your looks
you were knocking me down
with the palm of your eye
This was unlike the story
it was written to be
I was riding its back
when it used to ride me
We were galloping manic
to the mouth of the source
we were swallowing panic
in the face of its force
I was blue and unwell,
made me belt like a horse.
Now it's done.
Watch it go.
You've changed some.
Water ruin from the snow.
Am I so dear?
Do I run rare?
You've changed some:
peach, plum, pear.
Oh, this town, with its people that just sort of get shuffled around together. I don't quite get it anymore, and I suppose that is why I am bound for the big city. And I suppose this really will be my last extended stay, and I feel as if I am sacrificing a great deal for my great big Los Angelian education (why did we choose to be educated by L.A. anyhow... that's a bit of a strange choice) Bass Pro Shop really did a good job of pointing out exactly why I can't be here anymore, though, and also the reason that YOU(plural) don't belong here either. Yes yes, you and I, we are meant for more exciting things.
It's hard to suddenly be an adult, when terrible news comes. And suddenly there is a strange rift between Laura and I, and I feel her looking at me... she hasn't looked UP to me in a long time. And to hold your mother is strange, after growing accustomed to crawling in her lap when you feel helpless. I am NOT a real person yet.
One thing I've learned... like, good and learned: Words are cheaper than the whores that live in my back alley, and those are like, lowest grade whores you can find, I'm sure. I do hope I am not becoming a cynic.