when you’re gone, i miss you. when you’re here, i’m too nervous to be myself. when you’re gone, i have confidence. when you’re here, i hide in my shell. isn’t it ironic?
sorry i haven’t been active as much i’ve had a busy life lately
we weren't going to work i lied to myself and said i was ready when i wasn't i lied to you and said i didn't care you told me you liked me and i pretended i didn't hear because, and this is funny, i thought you were lying to me
I am the first line I am a different line I prefer the first line Well you’re wrong, the second one is better. Nah nah you’re both wrong, line five is amazing. Can we all just agree that line five is full of it? Yeah I think most of us can, but line two might Disagree. I am the last line
I’m trying not to love you I’m laughing at the irony of that truest truth— That we were the slightest unalignment of stars in a sky of caliginous blue You say you’re hers— That’s not true You say you’re hers, but you’re just you.
A beautiful sun shines through a palm's canopy And casts a shadow over your beach retreat. Sitting in a lounge chair with a rumrunner in hand, It's easy to pretend people don't get murdered here.
Now it's nighttime and the city shines alive with neon As countless youth hop from club to club looking for fun. Walking down the boulevard while you take in the sights, It's easy to forget the projects you passed to get here.
The next morning starts with a hefty hangover And ends with a delicious bandeja paisa. You've never had such exotically good food in your life, Yet it's easy to ignore the famished begging on the streets here.
So the next time you visit And feel all of your problems leave you, Remember that your tourist dollars help keep our paradise One fit for a fool.
