So here we are, I are, we am again,
Never wanted to visit this scene well rehearsed,
But there is a circle, every now and zen,
That still make me feel teeny and awkward, reversed.
The fact I can help watch your death rattles,
Drive away your pain like a wrangler in the shadows,
Seems petty sure but it’s my storm side chateau,
Oh why, why, my loves love me but leave me fallow.
So now, one go, all go, we shall not so or sew,
Relish the licking of wounds only on passionless tounges,
Told you I hate this address as one’s location can kill as you know,
Seems now surfing your heart for any sense or pleasure is a game for the young.