Tonight you stoop to my level.
I’m your mangy little whore.
Now you’re trying to find your underwear,
And your socks,
And then the door.
And you’re trying to find a reason
Why you have to leave.
I know it’s ’cause you think you’re Adam
And you think I’m Eve.
And you rhapsodize about beauty
And my eyes glaze.
Everything I love is ugly,
I mean really
You would be amazed.
And just do me a favor,
It’s the least that you can do.
Just don’t treat me like I am
Something that happened to you.
I am, I am, I am
Truly sorry,
Sorry about all this.
And you plot a tiny pin prick
In my big red balloon.
As I slowly start to exhale,
It’s when you leave the room.
And I did not design this game.
I did not name the stakes.
I just happen to like apples,
And I am not afraid of snakes.
I am, I am, I am
Truly sorry about all this.
And I envy you, your ignorance.
I hear that it’s bliss.
So I let go the ratio
of things said to things heard.
As I leave you to your garden,
And the beauty you prefer.
I wonder whether this will have meaning
For you, when you’ve left it all behind.
I think I’ll even wonder
If you meant it at the time.