we talked about love
and he was stubborn
and godawful
Israeli in his insistance
religious in his belief
(dangerously strong conviction)
and I think
sometimes love can't be bottled
or written in prose
so i remembered it
in some stupidity i'd made
when i loved an angel
and it was a sobering feeling.
i was so upset by the reaction
(that i lost my angel to the sunset)
i couldn't believe what i'd ruined
previously with intuition,
but recently with libido.

I never want to wake up
when i'm dreaming you love me.
depression sits on a shoulderpad
and the quality of reality deteriorates.
please let me try to explain to him
that his love isn't the timeless unique
or perhaps his love is more unique (and less universal)
but sometimes the epics are written within
and the wars are fought in our backyards
but the lips i'm kissing make it worthwhile...

I want to push something
and fix everything,
i need to prove/demonstrate it to myself.
i am lovable
and more than the blonde in red
with the ghetto booty and the awesome tits.
don't try to wine and dine me;
romance is an invention.
just prove my best friend can remain a friend
while being a love/friend/partner
and i will raise a glass
and i will sit beside my friend
until i perish.