It wasn’t a let down for me It was a drop from a great height Into the Dead Sea All my fault, really For seeing a man So much better than he be I suppose now, at least I can call myself free
Beautiful muse What I do to you Permissionlessly I bend you and shape you To the will of me According to who I imagine you’d be I wonder what you think Of what I think I see Maybe someday You will tell me
You are the constant Who I would choose First The yardstick of the strongest wood Smacking up against my thighs Filling me up with red and fire And so what if it’s all a fake? Only true for my own sake Maybe I owe you an apology For taking your apathy So personally
He used to look So perfect to me But that was before I could see clearly Now, he’s just a faulted man Still worthwhile Maybe Something I’ll probably Never see