Oh, I’m Sorry

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Oh, I’m sorry
Did you expect me to behave
Who do you think I am
Controlled along your radio waves
But I’m not that easily handled
I’m a pretty stubborn kind of guy
& subject to many whims of fancy
Living this life on the fly
I refuse outright to be your stooge
Or carry out all that you have planned
Understand, I’m devoid of rational thought
I’m immature; I’m the Pan

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You Know The Feeling

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You know the feeling
You don’t remember what you’re thinking about
You sense something is missing
& you’re racked with constant doubt
That woman is in your dreams
You try, but you’ll never forget her fertile mind
The way she made you feel worthy
The last visions of her fading behind

I Need To Get Out Of My Head

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I need to get out of my head
I’m thinking too much; unscripted
An overabundance of thought
Anxious emotions needing decrypted
But its scarier out in the world
I’d much rather be lost inside
Heinous monsters & hateful humans
Let me drown in my own cerebral tide

There’s A Twinkling In The Night

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There’s a twinkling in the night
A weird sensation under the stars
Standing close, needing a nudge
Yet, still can’t believe we’re this far
The darkness really isn’t all that bad
Just cosmic energy we need to arrange
That might not sit well with society
Though, they already think we’re strange

Trying Out Stories In The Morning

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Trying out stories in the morning
Typing away on this ol’ machine
Thinking of something different
A genius the world’s never seen
But I can’t think of anything great
I guess I’ll get more coffee instead
I hear a whistle from my lady
I guess my love needs me back in bed

Infuriating, Aggravating

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Infuriating, aggravating

But you can’t stop thinking about me

You try & you earnestly try

But you let me become a memory

Now, your man refuses to go down

So, you’re forced to use a toy

You dread the realization

You’ve fallen for a silly boy

Sitting In Great Silence

 

 

 

 

 

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Sitting in great silence
The musings of the mind’s voice
Attempts at a sly peek
Right words are the hardest choice
Greeted by a blank look
Can’t think quick; I sputter
She’s too beautiful for me
Under my breath I lowly mutter

I Think You Have The Wrong Notion Of Me

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I think you have the wrong notion of me
I could be wrong, but it’s what I believe
I’m neither the saint nor the villain
In which your thoughts are trying to achieve
I’m not nearly as arrogant as I portray
That’s merely the manifestation of a fictional role
I know confidence is sexy & I’m trying my best
But I have doubts regarding the quality of the contents of my soul

The Truth About Women’s Feet

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Love wrapped around my mind like a shroud

Full of colors, spectrums & radiant splashes

Not a day without engulfing sunshine

Blinded by pantyhose & false eyelashes

I believed in the fairytale courtships

Sipping champagne from glass slippers

Lovely damsels in need of gentlemen

Revealed to be crude strumpet strippers

My soul could not take this detail

Where was my love with elegant class

Distraught in this new reality

Stuck on feet made for crystal glass

How could my dreams unravel so

This giving me pause to think

Now I understand the truth

That women’s feet actually stink