I sit here and stare out at the ocean,
Bocean, gocean, rocean, nocean...
Tying to make sense of all these emotions.
My heart is beating like a fatal drum,
Bum, dumb, rum, chum, gum, thumb...
But at a tune I can't even hum.
My mind is hot with a burning desire,
Tire, bire, liar, higher, myer...
I'm dying in the flames of your fire.
I love you and I know you love me,
Sea, see, pee, tea, bee, lee...
But what will it take before we can be free?
From July 3rd, 2005.
Duck, Duck, Cockatiel
-
The move is officially complete, though I'm still living with a few islands
of stuff—the main one located in what agents like to call the "meals area".
Rea...
7 years ago
8 comments:
I was half expecting to see my "bums, plums, bums" gem in there
That would have been offensive if I did.
Wow, a poem where forced rhyme actually works! Nice.
Well, a mock song lyric, but it's all apples and apples.
Oops.
Just don't mention apricots!! :P
OK, but can I still eat them? Sure, they can't live up to a good peach, but sometimes ecstasy can only be reached by way of a handful of apricots.
I won't ask... :D
Phew. [smily face guy wiping his brow.]
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