Well, there're two ways I can say this. And one would be: FUCK you! And there're no two ways around it, because one would be untrue. Because I love everything about you. But I don't want to be around you. If you control my heart will you control my brain? If I give in to you, will it still feel the same? 'Cause I want nothing more than to be here with you. If you fulfill my dreams, will that fulfill you too? I need a second. I need a second to think.
Well, there're two ways I can say this. And one would be: FUCK you! And there're no two ways around it, because one would be untrue. Because I love everything about you. But I don't want to be around you. If you control my heart will you control my brain? If I give in to you, will it still feel the same? 'Cause I want nothing more than to be here with you. If you fulfill my dreams, will that fulfill you too? I need a second. I need a second to think. Now, the other way to play this would be mellow, light, and, cool. Poetry and meditation. Higher ground and higher truth. Because I love everything about you. But I use everything to doubt you. If you control my heart will you control my brain? If I give in to you, will it still feel the same? 'Cause I want nothing more that to be here with you. If you fulfill my dreams, will that fulfill you too? I need a second. I need a second to think. I found the spot where truth echoes and know each beauty mark by heart. But I just can't keep her still enough to render perfect art. 'Cause the truth is ever changing and although she loves my touch, I've had my way, but I when I pray, she kisses back too much. And it's hard to feel real gangster when you're always getting kissed. But you jump at every pucker, 'cause your fear of getting dissed. I try not to fight the parts of me that want to kiss her back. Egos should be illegal. Mine just don't know how to act. He tells me I don't need her. I should walk this path alone. She's make believe. She's up my sleeve. I'd do better with a clone. But could it be? It seems to me that she's my other half. My inner-tarzan monkey girl, raised mainly by giraffes. And besides she makes me laugh. 'Cause deep down I think she's stupid. But deeper down, I'm just a clown starting bar room brawls with cupid, like, xxxxx that naked baby angel, yo! And gimme 2 more buttery nipples". And God just re-invents herself as ice-cubes in my ripple.
"(Hallelujah) All these other suckers make me sick
Inshallah we've come this far, the past can suck my dick"
Sem comentários:
Enviar um comentário