slip skip miss
old done new
matters we've been
and they've said
our fantasies are ugly
let's burn it to the ground
starting over again in a new town
wanting nothing more than what you have
only forgetting to pause, abjectly
a disaster, a fixation, a terminal glue
gummed up the works and sent us all home
but we were working wrong to begin with
something had to pass for something else
and we had this interest, a common goal
a ritualistic ceremony, drawn together
hiding something from the crowd
that gathers 'round
Friday, March 7, 2008
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