The Death Of Poetry / Madonna Of Humility
Post-ironically engaging in transsexual polyamory
I'm chainsmoking Spirits
And Graham Smith's singing to me
Confirming all my neuroses
In songs that should be too verbose to cut as deep as they do
Because they're all true
Believe me, they're all true, they could
Be about me and you
Isn't that the scary thing?
Would you wear my ring
Could we make it to the spring
You're jingling keys in my face
Don't you know this isn't a race
I thought we all wanted the same thing
Something tangible, something free
All we wanted was the death of poetry
All we wanted was the death of poetry
Those days, tinted rosy
Royal Trux and our neuroses
While Winkler played the soundtrack of love spent inseparably
I need a stupid ugly boyfriend
Like I need a hole in my head
By that of course, I mean I need it desperately
L [?]rebuke youtan in the name of Jesus"