Part of the Band

[quads id=11]

She was part of the Air Force, I was part of the band
I always used to bust into her hand
In my, my, my imagination
I was living my best life, living with my parents
Way before the paying penance and verbal propellants
And my, my, my cancellation, hm, yeah

And I fell in love with a boy, it was kinda lame
I was Rimbaud and he was Paul Verlaine
In my, my, my imagination
So many cringes and heroin binges
I was coming off the hinges, living on the fringes
Of my, my, my imagination, oh, yeah

[quads id=9]

Enough about me now
“You gotta talk about the people, baby”
But that’s kind of the idea

At home, somewhere I don’t like
Eating stuff off of motorbikes
Coming to her lookalikes
I can’t get the language right
Just tell me what’s unladylike

I know some Vaccinista tote bag chic baristas
Sitting in east on their communista keisters
Writing about their ejaculations
“I like my men like I like my coffee
Full of soy milk and so sweet, it won’t offend anybody”
Whilst staining the pages of the nation, oh, yeah

A Xanax and a Newport
“Well I take care of my kids”, she said

The worst inside of us begets
That feeling on the internet
It’s like someone intended it
(Like advertising cigarettes)
A diamond in the rough begets
The diamond with a scruff you get

Am I ironically woke? The butt of my joke?
Or am I just some post-coke, average, skinny bloke
Calling his ego imagination?
I’ve not picked up that in a thousand four hundred days
And nine hours and sixteen minutes, babe
It’s kind of my daily iteration

[quads id=12]