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Array
(
[sid] => 122704
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => File Under U
[time] => 2006-07-04 01:00:18
[hometext] => Just a little something about white boy pain
[bodytext] => Maybe I’ll pretend it too Think I’m a big shot with so much to loose Maybe a cappuccino will slate my desire to stand Alone Maybe all this free thinking is Bringing my success rate down. Maybe I should buy the sporty car that Louds down the road Maybe I should hit the gym and call these ladies Those. Maybe all my problem is, is sitting here writing all this Down. Instead maybe I should be at some dank dark bar Telling some girl “That mustang’s my car!” And then maybe we could go to her place We could go to mine, but my mom might mind And I could treat like soil and then she’d foil my best attempt To make her hate me. Then the comes the room with the bed and the things in my head Good god have mercy Is it normal to think this way? Or am I just a guy who doesn’t know another way Maybe all I know about romance is Cinemax and Slow dance. Maybe it’s all me for not getting on that scene But that scene ain’t for me. That scene’s obscene. And for all the one nights these girls have had, Who knows what kind of Rx is in their bags Excuses excuses I’m the king of them all Take a walk onto the mountain and fall. Maintain an image as a part of the game. Take a little look inside the brass frame. The things you want are the things unnamed. You say want love and money, and all that’s all you know What love what money? Where does it go? I tell where it goes. File under “U” for unnamed. My problems unique? Ha. They’re all the same. [comments] => 5 [counter] => 280 [topic] => 56 [informant] => FreeLanceDub [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => sarcasticpoetry )
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