(no subject)

[wheresomego]

This is what happens when I write lyrics in between Shakespeare classes.

Failed States--

I don't know if I can stand you or not,
but that's okay with me honey,
I like the things that I've got.

grammatical errors seem untrue through glass eyes,
a scurvy politician seeing things I can't despise...
into hearts and knives unbridled images will rise;
I may have been this way before but I can't guide you anymore.

I don't know if I can stand you or not,
but that's okay with me, honey,
I like the things that I've got.

the many-tiered reality of your faux steam-punk mind
is beautiful and dutiful and filled with broken signs
directing me around a map refolded so many times
that I can't see the streets for all the creases and the lines.

And rampaging, the hurricane will fill your coffee cup
still sitting on my desk as if the paintings weren't enough
a collage of righteous inference, a difference of drugs
when the subtraction's finished, I'm worried that we'll be diminished.

I don't know if I can stand you or not,
but that's okay with me, honey,
I like the things that I've got.

Be Well...informed.