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Old 09-10-2012, 09:16 AM   #1
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What Young Love Doesn't Warn You About

Yeah... This is more of a really long poem than lyrics, but I think I could turn some of it into music. Definitely not all of it, but whatever... This is my own take on love and such things. Sometimes, after a while... You can get sick of it.


One month in, I was fallin and trippin
Two passed by and you were all I could mention
Three, four, day by day
Just couldn't feel all that time slipping away
It's love, it's liebe, it's all I can do to forgive
Myself for letting it go on like it did

Five months down, but you were really excited for six
Like it was a world record or some event we'd win at the olympics
You go around and tell your friends about your man
Cause every night you see me, I'm your trophy, your opium, your every future plan

Seven months, I started feeling the decline
Sex is routine, never talking is fine
Cuddled up on your couch
Where we mate and we mounch
Watching movies and starting to lose count
Now we're at 8 going on 9

I've always been afraid of
Complicated things
And in the beginning I never thought it mattered
I'm captain of a sinking ship and I'm expected to stay at the wheel
When are you gonna kick me out of your bladder

You're sweet and cute
You live to make me content
But sometimes I just want to punch a kitten
Those days you drag me along and never listen
You say we're pushing our luck, we need to cool down
Yet you never stop me when I'm on top of you ripping your clothes off
Sometimes I look at you and just see a nieve kid
That hasn't started to live, hasn't gone out and made mistakes like I did
Your hands haven't shaken, walking down a street
Contemplating the life changing moment that just occurred with somebody you just meet
Today I wish you'd choke on it, cry on it
Use your tears for lubrication
On the alternate routes I navigate
When you're on your menstruation
Tonight I'll draw a picture of the apocalypse
And use you as inspiration

Laughing at my demented humor
It's bullshit, not class
It's when I get the feeling
You're just a real big kiss ass
Maroon leather seats, driving by lilac trees
Take your pretty little pink revolver
And put some lead in my head please
Poke my brains as they ooze out of my skull
Before I die you'd probably want a wedding with the funeral

You don't know how to tell me things
You always sound like you did something wrong
Like when you tell me that a guy came to visit you at your house
That's all you say except for sending me a sad face
I'm not the jealous type
But how much more ****ing vague can you get with the few words you write
It's like you do it on purpose
Maybe you want some drama
But I'm here to tell you, mama
If he wants you he can have you

I could say you're worth the world
Worth more than diamonds, worth more than gold
You wanna hear me say you're worth growing old
But I'm not as greedy as you think
Come hold my head under the water that I'm putting in this sink
My darling, my peach
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