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A new one from the same collection:
At The Ballet
It’s a sin we all commit
Makes a communist of me
And from my stories I omit
This sad and youthful spree
This car is smaller then before
Artistry bred of hands and heat
Our ballet turns into a war
Our bunkers, these dusty bucket seats
And yet without opposition
We still fight for our lives
War’s gone from rightful expedition
Now, a way to pass my time
What's worse is as much as I can give
I can’t seem to get enough
“20’s when you’re supposed to live”
But I’ve become a lush
Admittedly I do enjoy
In a naive way
This is just part of the dance
A need to for some ballet
When it’s over we sort of bow
Though no one claps aloud
And no one begs for signatures
Still, it’s implied I should be proud
I feel I must confess
I fear against the grain
This stage is not what I’d have guessed
Nor the lack of pain
The longer it demands devotion
The less I seem to care
Simply going through the motions
The footwork and the flair
And although it seems this art’s my fate
Experience might make me adept
Or is it that I can’t differentiate
The performer from the steps
taylor.
__________________
EX: Whats new?
ME: I officially love coffee more then you now.
EX: uh...
ME: So, not much.
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