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| i'm a lovely boy, with nothing going. you were the perfect girl, but you turned into a woman. you don't want nothing to do with me...i treat girls like toys, and i'm rarely sorry. there's nothing that i want that i can't get from your body. you don't want nothing to do with me...i roll in like manifest destiny, and i will wear you out. you will try me hard for double jeopardy, but i will beat the rap...i will wear you out...i'm a lovely boy, with nothing going. i swear it's just a phase, i slipped into without knowing. you don't want nothing to do with me. i treat girls like toys with no remorse, and if i do say so, it's nothing i have to force...you don't want nothing to do with me...i roll in like manifest destiny, and i will wear you out. you will try me hard for double jeopardy, but i will beat the rap...i will wear you out... | | |
| have you ever reached that point in your life when you realize that your entire world is caving in around you?
where your family, and i mean your entire family, moves on and leaves you in the lurch?
when things you grew up with die...pop-culture things that helped define you, bands that molded your creative process, movies that changed your life..they fade. the flicker and they goddamn fade.
time is a deadbeat dad with a bad drug habit.
time makes bastards of all of us, just you wait and see.
i think i've realized that when love matures...it's not fun anymore. it becomes work. it becomes something that you do because you do.
"why do you love me? i mean...really...i want to know."
and i make shit up. i say cute things and i make deep, meaningful points about this and that...about the things you say and the things you do. but they're all bullshit.
sure...i like those things about you. i enjoy that you make me laugh. but is that really why i love you? no. thousands of girls could make me laugh. i like that you're odd. but there are thousands of odd girls out there.
why on earth is it that i love you? i haven't the slightest. beats the cat piss out of me.
i just do it because i do it. that's what i feel inside and i can't stop it. love isn't money. i'm not giving it to you in exchange for these "reasons".
"i love you because of this and that. so keep doing this and that and i'll keep loving you."
it's not a commodity. love isn't fiscal. it's insanity. it's rampant stupidity. it makes us do illogical things.
it makes us reject our innate survival instinct.
i met her on a goddamn thursday. i should've stayed home.
if i could wake up, feel nothing and drive off to leave you alone...
maybe i would. and how could i help it? you feel what you feel.
maybe i could. and how could i help it? if the feeling is real...
i find that the longer i am on this earth...i grow increasingly less tolerant of christians. which may seem odd and self-defeating because i am one. i just find myself on the opposite side of a lot of things.
i don't know....i haven't done the research i should....but i don't think a church started by paul would recognize the church most of us go to. again...i don't know for a fact....but i always have this vision in my head of the o.g.'s of religion piled into a basement talking, discussing and encouraging. outreach. feeding the poor...helping the sick, the lame, the "least of these". i don't think some guy that had more relevant schooling than the rest stood on a stage and yelled for an hour while the old folks sleep, the young folks text message and the middle folks sit and plead with God to give them a break on the tithing so they can pay their bills.
will we all marvel in the miracle,
or would that be too naive and too spiritual.
are we too quick to say what is childish and what is fake?
do we love to destroy what takes faith?
when it rains...
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| there's a certain absurdity in the need for attention.
talking just to see if anyone is listening...singing just to see if anyone will join.
my life is one big game of marco polo.
and i wander...oblivious.
i wonder...if this is it.
i know i'll mature on the outside...
i'll learn to make sacrifices for others and i'll learn to do what's right by those i love first.
but that's merely aesthetic maturity.
any aspect of your personality that you have to acquire...
any trait you have to learn isn't natural...it isn't innate...and therefore it isn't anything for you to be proud of.
when you realize you're mostly a product of your surroundings...
you hate the world too.
there's a certain absurdity in the need for empathy.
"you should just know."
"you should just understand."
no one ever truly appreciates anything you do unless they can directly relate it to something they've done.
they can't truly enjoy your story, your music...your art...
unless it reminds them of something they did better.
to create in hopes of success...in hopes of acquiring a commision...
brings the necessity of self-deprication.
and i'm too arrogant for that.
i'm too arrogant for a lot of things.
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