looks like the gangs all here
having a great time
yet all we want to do is disappear
so many voices in our ears
few choices for you and i my dear
except will we willingly volunteer
to take a vacation from reality
but it seems to me our reality
was long on actuality short on congeniality
hostile takeovers i beleive the word
is provinciality
we watched the sequentiality
of our dominoes just fall
so many fall out of favor
and act appalled
in my maturity i cant seem to recall
a defualt mechanism to heal a love devide
a schism me over here
you on the other side
refusing to submit our pride
to raging forces of emotion
that refuse to subside
no medication to prescribe
when contractors cut down the tree
in which our names were inscribed
if love is such a funny vibe
why is the laughter lost on you and i
no need for mutual replies
nothing left to justify
voices tend to amplify
when small cracks in the rock of rages
are magnified
still i will remember your scent
and all your smile used to represent
let others fall into the depths of dissent
i hope you and i are quite content
to accept the changes we underwent
no can i come over do overs in this
no need for one last kiss
doesnt matter if we are chilled or pissed
the world wont stop spinning for you and me
maybe i should have been a nominee
maybe i couldve fell to one knee
maybe the chablis
was contaminated by our debris
or maybe lately is after all
after any addiction comes a withdrawl
i dont know im just vamping
scrawling words with my quill
listen the music has stopped
the night is still
yeah our vibe was always distilled
straight no chaser no eraser
like we both prefer our spirits straight
all the time i would berate
all the times your words would grate
no need any longer to concentrate
fools in or out of love cant dictate
to the supreme what he refuses to reinstate
look here comes the crowd
might as well smile no tears allowed
when we leave no one will know
of our whereabouts
back to the crucible of living everyday life
back to the reality of senseless sacrifice
but for the courageous love is a vice
that we willingly pay the price
until..the quill
is empty of thought