It’s like ten thousand poems when all you care for is strife
It’s fucking the man of your dreams… and then fucking his beautiful wife
And isn’t it Byronic, don’t you think?
A little too Byronic? Yeah, I really do think.
IT”S LIKE FLEEING TO SPAIN ON YOUR WEDDING DAY
BEING A SHITTY DAD TO ADA LOVELACE
LIKE THE OTTOMAN FORT THAT YOU JUST COULDN”T TAKE
AND YOU WOULDA THOUGHT YOU’D BE BIGGER