oh my obsessions my obsessions my obsessions
my obsessions have got me down
dreaming for better times without obsessions
obsession free sessions
where life is simpler with no distractions
a place where i can obsess over my lack
of obsessions
oh my obsessions my obsessions my obsessions
my obsessions have got me down
and here i’m dreaming of
obsession free sessions
If our love opened a restaurant
I seriously doubt it would stay
In business longer than a month
The décor would be a nightmare.
Clashing tones and tints competing
With lampshades something ill
Sitting patiently for a waiter to
Take your order would be like
Waiting for the next apocalypse
The chairs would grate against your
Soul like Monday morning, with its
Hard reality and lack of support
The music, (if they have any at all)
I imagine would be like Grandma’s
Lounge-room jazz- but more dreary
Don’t expect a warm smile with
Your service. The waiters are busy
And don’t have time to amuse.
If our love opened a restaurant
I seriously doubt it would stay
In business longer than a month
But did I mention the food?
Oh! The food is positively divine.
Oh darling
I can see you,
with your firey eyes and
your samurai smile
(just like in the movies)
and you’re looking this way
because you can see me
seeing you, bare teeth and
cut hair and all, squirming
in the warmer spots of sunlight
with this collared shirt unbuttoned
at the top. All we understand is
old jazz records.
We only speak in riddles to each-other
What is this open-ended hyperbole?
I can not stand to wonder, though,
when I see you seeing me, bare teeth
and cut hair and all.
(Just like in the movies)
waiting seems an endless thirst
where all things bore
and drone on
a white-washed sun shining
on a hangover day
30 left.
