The Police

The tight feeling in my stomach, the jitteriness in my hands,
Hi, I give ultimatums, I drastically change last minute plans,
We are what we associate ourselves with, what we surround ourselves by,
Exhibits what we value, exhibits our substance, our potential to fail or fly,
You surround yourself with uneducated, naïve, teenage moms,
Tattoos, egos afloat by breasts, piercing tricks, blabbering verbicidal bombs,
I’m hypocritical, I hate myself too, and thus the need for my antithesis,
The more I understand, the more sex appeal points become meaningless,
26, 27, 28, on and on, so much time so little change,
Know what I’m looking for, yet searching out of range,
Why? I ask myself, why do I do this? I don’t even understand this,
Love is like ‘the,’ like ‘poop,’ like ‘cereal,’ like a cat’s warning hiss,
Love’s clout: a hot air balloon without the balloon, a trick or treat without the treat,
Watch a movie: textbooks for love, buttered popcorn in the classroom so sweet,
I don’t believe it, it doesn’t work, it’s the most costly lottery for the most pathetic dreamers,
Life is the coffee, love is the saturated fat in the heaviest of creamers,
Cry it away, cry it into the background, cry minus the tears,
I go forward because I have to, deathly afraid with an abundance of fears,
Raj, I don’t know the answers, in theory everything can make sense,
Kim, in reality, I never know which is the other side of the fence,
Roxee, Melanie, and the rest, specks in the future’s distant past,
And surely vice versa, we all tried, bravely, to make it last…

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