Hitting Rock Bottom

Listen at myspace.com/mikejtodd.

Six, please, and could you lend a little pick-me-up?
A touch of gin in my cappuccino?
What’s that? Some breathy scatted jazz that’s faker than my
Ex-girlfriend’s promise that we’ll always be friends

Just a simple euphemism, which translated, said
“I wish we would have never dated
Look at all the mess you’ve made
It makes me want to throw myself out of your window
But the elevator plays the same, old Musak every day
So I’ll just keep on fuming at ground level while you get my crap out of your way”

Sunshine, I’ve kept myself locked up behind all the clouds
Of desperation or doubt
Even though we tried, we tried too hard to set our heartbeats in time
Or to rhyme our syllables
That was so close!

But you were always good at metaphors
Which with some censoring said
“This bleeping pile of bleep you want to bleeping throw on me
Is full of bleeping bleepy bleep, and that’s a bleeping travesty
Somehow I had a tiny hope that you wouldn’t bleep with me
But that bleeping elevator music leads me to have nothing else to say”

So that’s it, all the months of trying to carry on
Have up and gone like a fart in the wind
Only, it smells too dank to say we’re back at square one
My babe, we’ve only begun to get along

Or so my spider senses tell me, without rhyming
“Every girl you’ve ever dated thought you were a gift from God
And in other news, you’ll always get that job you wanted
Making up the crap that goes into the New York Post
You’ve made it to the top, and now you’ll blast out of the roof like Willy Wonka

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Published in: on May 22, 2009 at 3:30 am  Leave a Comment  

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