Bear with me; I am the spoiled child who needs motive
the closest I've come is the lone solid thrill of folly
even my shadow lacks the taste of pennies in its mouth
together we both need a girl to sit atop our train wreck
Please bear with me my need to be historic
I am the brat picking windmills in the garden
many men have loved but it is I that must cum balloons,
last time I brought them to ballet i went on the nod, fell into a nightmare
and when waking far from home I went next door
surprised by nothing therefore expecting everything
