Thursday, April 23, 2009

. The Celibate Life .

The dust from a four-day affair is now landing 
All over the floor and your brown legs 
The glod plated legs of my rival 
Whose eyes had no reason to fall. 


You led no celibate life no skirt while chemicals danced on your head. 
You stole the keys to this ride and your fables are falling tonight. 

Because of your struggle to make them. 
Their taste for your past time is fading 
Remember the girls in the middle are always the first to fall off. 

You'll learn to live like a mouse, 
Searching the cracks in the floor to remember 
All the dregs in the crowd you barely recall 

You led no celibate life no skirt while chemicals danced on your head. 
You stole the keys to this ride and your fables are falling tonight.


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