What do you give someone who's already got one of everything,
you thought would be the perfect accoutrement to their unnerving temperament?
Attention?
What could a lonely peasant being like myself
Offer a perfect, pleasant savior of humanity, redeemer of us sickly, sinning hillbillies?
Attention.
Just one more resounding stab at all the others,
You've almost blown your cover
But your tracks don't stick
One more bottle should do the trick
Discreetly cleansing the remnants of every disdainful quip
We found no escape route but i know you well enough to hate you now,
It seems that you haven't figured that out.
What do you call someone who calls you out on DIY ethics you don't embody
as he drains his dad and mommy's monthly data plan?
An asshole with an iPhone.
I'll admit i'm in the same boat,
Caught between my adolescent safety net
and where the world wants me to be.
But i'd never use that as an excuse
To treat my friends the way that you treat me.
Just one more distorted sad attempt at humor
From the jagged bleeding tumor in our throat.
The malignancy at best, and quick to address yourself as
Anything other than what we've learned to expect.
The patron saints of good god damn.
I'll kick myself asleep before i'd shake
that grimy, dirty, russet, arrogant hands.
So please leave my house.