Love of life
When it’s done right
Silly to say you don’t want to be a pretty wife
Why fight
Mirror image is your imagination
Shame, really; home early
So much sparkle and gloss, feelings of loss
If ever a lovelier reflection
It lived in a serpent’s seduction

So, yes, I succumb, we all make monstrous fools of ourselves in front of soft focused cameras on Saturday nights and seventeen ounces of liquor served chilled; saintly and proudly stiff.

Grand exits? Oh me? Oy vey, oh yes!

Some nights we end up alone
Swirling through names in a phone
And we dial
Some mornings we don’t wake
Sleep and die and sleep and read about Haiti’s great quake
Aren’t we vile?

I get by on my looks, cross and dirty
But if I were you…

Oh, if I were you

Well, looks and drinks and the many thinks we may think
This scheme is a put on to disguise my true intentions
Which are
for me to know and for you to marry into like the callisteia queen taking Jesus’ hand

You’ve steered quite clear of making a decision
But I must say
Love of life
Don’t delay
Beauty is the servant of an aberrant vision

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