toss it in the trash babydoll
You ain't worth the burning of the cane, can or to add injury
to the bluest moon, to insult Cain and sibling alike
no-no-no and not a token remark farther to rip prickles at my soul
It takes but it never gives;
retrosprective dillema, eyes wide open under the mistletoe
Well I be dammed if you aren't a deer in front of an incoming train
It don't pay to lie to the Devil or oneself,
and considering I am not in the business of fooling either way
I won't be torn apart nor prickled at at whims, satire nor jumping to order or instructions
Catching strays like I can't restrain nor reframe thought to process
Tapping my feet yet I don't feel like dancing
the wrong side of sympathy when it reflects a road so-oh-so heartless
to make concessions when they take offense and make objections?
if I am loneliest when you are near, yawn tapped forcefully
I hear a tear, a disconnect grown cold far along the crossroad
the true ridicule is to keep poor entertainment when I have long learnt
where I feel happier in better company
alone in a room.
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