Here is a plea for these songs; never written, pieced, packaged, produced from a studio as art. Rather blood sweat and stench as her bodily functions not repulse turn me on from the start. Because she never fit in with that crowd, hair down up, makeup caked on like beautiful scares. I could see as she cheered in her sarcastic tone that my story had last found his star. And I swear from the start as she gathered my heart up in pieces from off of the floor that this crush wouldn't sore from a life and a love to a fiscally audio whore. I'd deny allegations, I'd say "Nee, nee. I promise not to sell you out. And I swear I can love you as more than a theme for my next greatest album's abouts".
And I say "Oh, I guess I'll never know. Because the past is gone and man that'd turn me on". And I say "Oh, I'll see how it feels to not play such a part. But for now I'll continue to sell you as art."
As I look in the mirror the picture is clearer, I'm cynically smiling alone. And as days drawing nearer I'm confronting fears of uprooting and leaving home. And now that faces are redder from social endeavors I know that I'm growing in fame. And I know I'll be better as long as I get her soaked when she first heard my name. Though I'm on my own, a man now on his own I still miss her abundant regrets. Because from misery's zone, when I'm invited home, man, we go out and buy cigarettes. And the words are now written with a lack of vision and I know that the reason is this. I miss being bitten by having smitten and waiting for our ending bliss.
So I know that it's over and I meant what I told her; day by day I'm better with time. Because live moves on and the past is gone and she is no longer mine. But when pen thrusts to paper and I smash at the strings, I'll tell the world that I'm not fine. And as long as the world gives me music, I'll right about you 'till the end of time. Because I'll never be sponsored by children's television, pretty and trendy dressed just like Nick, Joe and Kevin, but I'm no fool because they helped me figure out the rest. Whether I really feel broken hearted by you it doesn't matter. I have to get me off my chest; The audience loves when I write songs for you because break up songs sell the best.
Oh, I guess I'll never know, and if live moves on then that would turn me on.