I can't get into politics
And I don't do philosopy.
I talk so much fucking shit.
Am I happy being me?
Creativity has run dry
I'm stuck in constant clichés
My ideas are fucking lame.
Even my best friend agrees.
I can't sing and I can't dance
But if you give me a single chance,
I can listen, and I can smile.
I can be a friend and I will defend
You. Open up your hand
And I will shake it with fucking style.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
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