Song 121

Turning deserters and pariahs of the GSA,
We formed a band of would-be Wildes and Jean Genets,
Cruising love in empty gestures and clever turns of phrase.
And we sat drinking dirty chais in beatnik cafés,
Filling expensive moleskin journals with felonious clichés—
Poem felos de se.

Or like the footnotes in a Baedeker we rambled around,
Getting lost in city graveyards and Chinatowns
Where the bookstores stretched for miles underground.
And I write and burned 120 songs for you,
While you burned through silent films and directorial debuts,
A folie à deux.

We spent that summer and our savings drinking green chartreuse
While I pined away for you like the bluest spruce
Trying fecklessly to fall in love with anyone but you.
But you kept pulling me back down in your undertow.
I guess that's hardly news to you, but I just wanted you to know
My status quo.

And all the friends we made in college, they dropped like flies.
I guess that's one less thing to lose, I have the perfect life.
I got it free of shipping off of Amazon last week.
And I wrote one more stupid song about you and me,
And it's a metric fuck-ton simpler than a song about us should be.
But c'est la vie.



Credits
Writer(s): Zachary L. Foster
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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